


The Chariot

by det395



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Era (Phandom), Getting Together, M/M, Nightmares, Phandom Big Bang 2018, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 06:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16634378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/det395/pseuds/det395
Summary: Phil Lester is a psychic but a really bad one at that, with no luck at tarot cards or tea leaves or magic 8 balls, only muddled, incoherent nightmares to follow. In the middle of finishing his grad degree, losing and making friends, and transitioning into adulthood, it’s hard to keep protecting himself. Dan is the hardest part, the young and confused man who keeps dominating his most intense dreams.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is posted for the Phandom Big Bang 2018! I want to thank my lovely beta and artist [celestial-imagination](https://celestial-imagination.tumblr.com/) for helping so much despite us both being stressed with school. All the pretty art will be found within the fic during the corresponding scenes!

“Tarot cards! My grandma was a psychic woman and has apparently passed the gift onto me.” Phil says, leaning back against his bed. “Let’s look into my future, I’m going to do the following month because I’m hoping this month will be good.”

“Before this month is the nine of clubs reversed. I was vain, complacent, over-sentimental and careless, and I neglected my partner.” He covers his mouth in mock surprise at the camera.

“Currently: the three of swords. I’m entering into a dangerous three-way relationship, where heartbreak is inevitable for one participant or all. Minor surgery is possible. Ooh, that doesn’t sound good, maybe my wisdom teeth, they’re really hurting at the moment.” He winces, tapping his jaw.

“The future, the knight of wands. So, some guy is going to have a big impact, an energetic warrior. He has a hasty personality and is quick to love or hate. Hm.”

Phil pauses for a moment, making a mental note to cut this out. He scans the page once more before tossing it aside and gathering up the cards. Nearly done.

“Interesting. I’m glad it wasn’t like…death. Well, I’m going to go eat some…crisps. That was the first thing that came to my head. No, I’m going to go change the world in ways you couldn’t believe.”

He feels a bit weird with the tarot cards. They never seem to predict accurately but how is he supposed to keep track? He wonders why Grandma preferred these.

He sits up on his knees to switch the camera off. His hands are trembling when he takes hold of the memory card. He wonders if his friends feel the same adrenaline rush when they make videos, that warming of their bodies and jitter in their fingers when they think about posting for the world to see.

He sets the little disk on the corner of his desk then gets up just to collapse back on his bed, springs creaking beneath him. Half of the slates are broken already, anyway. He sets his laptop on the soft jut of his stomach and folds his pillow behind him, straining his neck.

He taps anxiously on the space next to his trackpad waiting for the slow, clunky laptop to open up his browser amidst the noise of the whirring fan. A tab for Twitter, Dailybooth, Formspring, Myspace and YouTube always seem to be open now, the ever-growing notifications like an addiction. He checks and double checks his posts a lot, even though most of them are posted on a whim anyway. Maybe his mum is right about all this Internet craze being the new meth, but some days he feels overwhelmed, barely able to make himself look at the comments. Not the hate nor the lovely messages from all the friends he’s made. It’s a bit exhausting, just as much as it is fun.

He pauses at one tweet, taking his hand off the scroll pad completely. He recognizes this name and photo, though it isn’t one of his friends, not even one of the people somewhere in between acquaintances and friends, just one of the accounts that started popping out at him. He clicks on the profile and squints his eyes at the avatar. He sees a boy with a long brown fringe, tan skin and a face that very well could be as hot as it seems through obscuring pixels. He resists the urge to stalk further, the steadily progressing time a cloak of anxiety over him now that he’s remembering his coursework. That damn video took longer than he thought.

The user is asking him about Lost, and excitement jolts in his chest. He’d much rather talk about this than memorize scene terminology. 

“@danisnotonfire yeah ben is my fav! ^_^ best sneakiest liar” he quickly tweets back before pressing the X on his browser.


	2. one

Brown eyes stare back at him as he tries to shuffles forward. Heavy sheets constrict him while his tired limbs search for warm skin and comfort. He can’t move close enough.

Dan laughs, soft and quick, pulling Phil forward easily until they’re pressed chest to chest, hips to hips and Phil can finally relax and focus on the warm glow in his chest. He can feel hands roaming his body, wanting him, and he feels a wave of dizziness pass through his mind. In a good way, somehow.

Phil feels enamoured by what he sees but has a frustrating inability to focus his eyes. He wonders where his glasses are.

A large thud makes both of their heads jerk to the small square window across from the bed. There on the outside ledge is an owl, so still that it could be fake, except Phil swears it’s staring right in his eyes. The sun shines in behind it.

Then, the owl starts tapping its beak on the glass, scratchy and loud and speeding up as the seconds pass by.

The whole window sill shakes. Phil’s old coffee cup with faded prints of alligators and flowers begins to shake. In his periphery, Phil can see Dan looking back and forth between the window and Phil with panicked jerks of his head.

“Should we…should we let it in?” Phil asks.

“That's fucking weird, Phil.”

Phil winces at the comment. Vibrations slowly push the mug to the edge where it teeters slightly before diving to the floor. Phil is too frozen to even react. He sees the ceramic smash and listens to pieces tinkling across the floor.

“It really wants in, though. What does it want?” Phil peers up into the continuous eye contact. The loud tapping is increasingly incessant.

“I don’t think it’s going to be nice,” Dan says, trying to pull Phil’s limbs around him, but Phil pushes away so he can sit up and get a better look. Dan kisses his forearm and Phil sees him peer up in his peripheral, like a silent beg to lay down again, stay in the moment.

The tapping speeds up and the sound is hurting his head now, pounding his temple. Phil stares at the window until a crack appears in the center, a little circle of bent glass. Cracks stretch out from the spot its beak hits, creating a snowflake shape with racing lines that soon approach the frame.

The lines eventually reach the panels surrounding until the whole window bursts through. Glass shatters into the room, sliding across the floor and hitting the bed, with only a few pieces still jutting out from the frame. They both close their eyes at the shower of broken glass.

Before he can say anything, Dan gets up and runs out the door. Phil calls after him but it’s too late and his voice won’t carry, Dan has already disappeared down the hallway, so pitch black and ominous that Phil knows he couldn’t catch him if he tried. The owl is in the room now anyway, flying around the room, wings longer than Phil could have ever imagined they’d be.

He ducks and hears all of his belongings smashing and falling, he fears the whole house might collapse if it keeps going.

“Please! Stop!”

Phil looks up and the owl dives straight at his face.

His eyes spring open. He doesn’t dare blink until his eyes adjust to the sun streaming in between the cracks in his thin blinds.

His hand scrambles across the table next to him, patting around and knocking at his alarm clock, lamp, a glass of water, and some book until he hears something fall to the floor. He rolls so half his body is hanging off the bed and he sweeps his hand around until he finds the cold metal of his glasses.

He squints at the alarm clock and a lurch of panic courses through him until he realizes it’s Saturday, a perfectly respectable day to sleep in until 11:00. Before his mind loses every memory, he opens up his messages and finds the contact not yet saved for Dan from Twitter. He can only tell it's him from the last texts about _The Resistance_.

_OMG I had the weirdest dream about u O.o_

He shoves his fingertips under his glasses to rub his eyes, feeling both amused and a bit frightened, and maybe a little horny, weirdly enough. Dan replies back in moments.

_forrealz? what happened :o_

Phil pauses for a moment, thumbs on the slide out keyboard. This would probably feel creepier if he was talking to someone he saw in real life, but realistically, he'll probably never talk to Dan again.

Why did he have a dream about him, anyway? There were no indications that this was anything but a normal incomprehensible, fictitious dream but he hasn’t so much as heard Dan’s voice or seen his face aside from the few selfies. Dan wasn’t on his mind last night or anything. His mind always confuses him. He desperately hopes it was just a normal dream.

_Can I call? It’s hard 2 explain…_

A few long moments pass before Dan replies, and Phil is beginning to think he really is too weird.

_ya sure go ahead!_

Phil waits for a few rings until he hears a familiar click and some breathing on the other end.

“Hello?” Phil says, slow and drawn out.

“Oh, hi! Phil?” Dan says. It isn’t the same deep voice as in his dream. A bit high-pitched and cracking instead.

“That’s me,” Phil says, sitting up and leaning against the wall.

“Oh, right. Your voice sounds a lot deeper on the phone.” Dan says, clearing his throat. The sound is a bit muffled as though he’s moving around.

“Like a real man?” Phil asks, making his voice go a few octaves deeper. He’s satisfied to hear a snort laugh through the line.

“So…you actually dreamed about me?” Dan asks.

“Yeah, I don’t know where it came from. It might make me sound a bit like a predator too.”

“Did you murder me or something?”

“No! I was very kind to you. We were in bed together, actually.” Phil says, pausing to hear Dan’s reaction but only hearing silence.

“Dan?”

“What? I’m here.” Dan says, laughing awkwardly.

“Saucy, huh? But then an owl came to the window.” Phil feels his face going red but the amusement in his chest keeps him calm. He really doesn’t have to talk to Dan ever again if this is too embarrassing but he feels an urge to reach for some reaction.

“So…what were we doing in bed?” Dan asks.

“What, you don’t want to know about the owl events?”

“Phil!” Dan lets out a breathy laugh.

“Okay, it’s not even that juicy, we were just cuddling. I cuddle with all my friends.” Phil says, some shyness stifling him. He can't remember the mood all that clearly, and he doesn't want to think too much into it.

“Oh, wow, okay. Uh, and an owl?”

“Yeah. So, an owl starts tapping at the window, like this huge owl and it breaks through the glass into our room! It started flying around and smashing my things and you booked it out of the room and let the owl murder me in cold blood.” Phil says, his voice excitable and animated like it might have been in a video. It's all Dan has probably seen of him anyway so he might not be as exasperated as another person.

“Okay, that’s fucked up. An owl cock blocked me basically.” Dan says and it’s Phil’s turn to laugh in shock.

“Have you seen the Fourth Kind?” Dan asks. Phil gasps, a sudden excitement bubbling up.

“Yes! I love horror movies. Oh my God, that had owls didn’t it, this means I’m definitely getting abducted by aliens.” Phil smiles into the phone.

“One hundred percent, your body is getting contorted in the air while you sleep.”

“You’re not safe either, danisnotonfire. You were in the creepy owl dream.”

“Ugh, my God, please just call me Dan. I made that username when I was, like, fourteen. Anyways, uh, what are your favourite horror movies?”

Phil turns on his speaker and drops his cell so he can sink down on the pillow. He's noticing the sleep still weighing over him now, making his body heavy. He begins rambling on anyways, groggy and all over the place, but Dan is surprisingly kind in his affirmations.

He talks about sneaking downstairs to watch Nightmare on Elm Street with his brother when he was far too young as well as the proceeding nightmares and parental punishment that followed. He talks about the R-rated horror movies he snuck into at 14 and the horror film he's making for his masters. Dan tells him about his fear of trees after the Blair Witch Project and the aesthetics he likes in old horror movies, the psychological questions that always come out of such violence. Phil thinks Dan must be a student too, the comments naturally analytical. He feels a bit pathetic to remember he hasn't had a casual conversation in a while, hiding alone in his room to do homework all the time.

Phil hears his stomach rumbling and stops himself from replying mid-thought.

“Did you hear that? My stomach is rumbling.” He says.

“Hungry?”

“Yeah, I should probably go get breakfast.”

“Oh, right.”

“Wait, Dan, where do you live?”

“Wokingham. Gonna stalk me?” Dan asks.

It's almost a relief, Internet friends are easier to manage, with little pressure to leave the house.

“I just might. I thought I heard that South accent. Anyway, talk to you later, Dan. I’m gonna go fill up on my friend’s Eggo’s.”

"And what, you're from the North? I don't think I heard that accent as much in your videos."

"Oh, yeah 'ello, it's meh Philip."

"Okay, don't do that."

He laughs. "Okay, well, talk to you later."

“Oh? Uh, yeah, talk to you later,” Dan says. Phil waits for the phone to hang up before he realizes Dan is waiting, so he hits the end button and lays back for a moment, trying to find the motivation to rise by thinking about coffee.

He untangles his legs from the mess of constricting blankets and pulls on sweats and a shirt, the first ones he finds digging in his hamper. After a quick spray of deodorant, he runs downstairs, making a quick detour to the laundry room to make sure it’s empty. It’s his turn today.

He walks over to the kitchen, bare feet slapping against the tile, to see Anja leaning against the counter with a waffle in her hand. She has her phone leveraged between her shoulder and cheek and seems immersed in conversation so he walks up and takes a bite out of the other end and feels syrup drip down his chin.

“Phil, you fucker, make your own.” She lifts the waffle like she’s going to throw it and he runs to the other side of the kitchen, bouncing and giggling.

“Just my roommate.” She says into the phone, readjusting it on her shoulder. “Yeah, I really do live with too many boys.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Phil says, mock hurt in his voice. He reaches into the freezer and pulls out a couple more waffles, listening carefully while Anja lowers her voice to say goodbye.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight, I can’t wait. Bye.” She lets out a soft laugh, turning away from Phil momentarily before flipping her phone shut. Phil raises his eyebrows at her.

“You didn’t need to say goodbye.” He says, a smile teasing on his lips.

“It’s fine.” She leans back casually, shoving the waffle in her mouth.

“Do I embarrass you in front of all your new friends?”

“Yeah, but I guess they have to get used to it eventually,” she smiles up at him and he smacks her arm with his bottle of syrup before opening another cupboard and taking out his favourite coffee mug, rubbing his thumb against the chipping _Florida_ print.

“So…was it a girl?” He raises his eyes expectantly, seeing an undeniable blush spread on her high cheeks.

“Maybe. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t make fun of you for flirting with every single person you’re friends with on Myspace.” She flips her short hair out of her eyes.

“Okay, I’m just trying to make connections with videomakers. It’s called networking. Where did you meet her? In Women Studies?”

Phil jumps when the waffles pop up out of the toaster and he nearly drops his coffee mug.

“Okay, lesbians take other classes than just Women’s Studies. She was in my B-Chem class, for your information. And we’re going to a bar tonight.” Anja says, a smile slowly widening on her face. Phil beams at her and runs over to wrap his arms around her shoulders, eliciting a surprised laugh from her. He squeezes her hard and skips back to grab his breakfast and coffee.

“What’s the weather gonna be?” She asks.

“Sunny.”

“Cool, we can go to a patio.”

“I’m so happy for your lesbian escapades. Maybe one day we’ll be emotionally connected to someone other than characters from Buffy.” Phil says.

“Willow might always be my best love.” She says and Phil nods in agreement, trailing her to the living room.

Andy and Pete are sitting there, talking with intent and gesticulating wildly. Sports, Phil guesses immediately, before hearing his thoughts confirmed as Pete mumbles on saying _but last game…._

The Discovery Channel is on in the background, an Australian accent chirping out facts over shots of the nocturnal boreal forest.

Anja and him sit on the sofa, the one they got from someone’s grandma. It has seams and strings pulled out from her cats and now the cushions are all deformed from young adults lounging, but it’s comfortable nonetheless. He doesn’t know where everyone else is, maybe asleep with hangovers. This time of year allows for that kind of socializing, if he even wanted to every weekend.

He leans back into the cushion and lets Anja throw her legs over his while she fiddles with the remote to the blocky TV sat on the coffee table. Phil puts his feet up just as he’s about to check a new text on his phone.

“Watch your mug,” Anja mutters.

Before he can react, he feels his foot knock into something hard, and then hears the unmistakable sound of ceramic crashing to the floor.

“Shit!” He exclaims, lurching for it even though it’s far too late to save.

Andy and Pete pause then, looking around. They laugh when they see the source of the noise, shaking their heads endearingly at Phil.

“Really, Phil?” Andy says.

He lifts it up by the handle and inspects the large chip now missing from the side, the warm-ish coffee making a sticky mess on his fingers. He frowns at it, staring at the old, faded mug for a few moments.

“Such a clutz, God Phil.” Anja laughs next to him.

“I don’t understand my life,” he says, jumping up and running for paper towel.


	3. two

Dan from Twitter is pretty cool, after all.

Sometimes people start messaging him and Phil doesn’t know how to get out of the conversation. He’ll drag through minutes of exhausting small talk and politeness and never be able to tell them to go away, destined to just stop replying and hope they forget.

That fear was there with Dan, as it always is on the days he feels more introverted, but as Dan kept texting him he realized how many shared interests they had until it was Phil dragging Dan on a Skype to talk more.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right seven is the best,” Dan bobs his head in a nod.

“Don’t test me on my Final Fantasy opinions.”

He is attractive, too. Beyond the huge pixels, dark room and small screen, he is undeniably a good-looking man, all dark features and bright smiles. Unmistakably flirtatious with loud giggles and sultry looks into the camera, fixing his hair every few seconds as he glances in the corner of his Skype screen.

“I think you just have a thing for Cloud,” Dan says.

“Yeah, I love men with that edgy, emo look.”

Dan lets out a laugh, a bit too loud and shrill for such a joke. He grins after, causing his dimple to cave in and Phil stares, hoping it isn’t obvious through the screen.

“Also love them animated characters.” Phil jokes after Dan stays silent.

“Hey, I don’t judge. We all have our weird fetishes.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” Phil says. He’s pushing it today, he can tell. He can tell from the patches of red on Dan’s cheeks and neck. He has a satisfying feeling that Dan came into the friendship with a little Internet crush. That ego boost might be the most addictive thing about the Internet, where he visualizes himself as his nicely taken selfies rather than the sunken-in pale face he sees in the mirror with acne lining his chin. On here he can shine the lamp onto his face in that specific angle and pretend he's not the guy that gets left alone at bars.

He hears a vibrating sound and watches Dan look to the side, reading his phone, before putting it down again and looking up distractedly.

“What were you saying again?” He asks.

“Oh, nothing. Do you need to talk to someone?”

“No, no, not at all. I just get distracted. Any little sound and I’m like what? A bit ADHD maybe,” Dan laughs a bit awkwardly.

“Yeah, I feel you. I live in a house of ten people so it’s constant distractions. I get no sleep or work done. I can’t even work with music on to drown them out,” Phil says. He can hear people moving around a floor below. He barely remembers when the constant bustle used to just be a reminder of how fun it is to live with friends.

“Really? I need music to work. But Jesus, ten people is too much, I need to be a bit more of a hermit than that. I’m already dreading the uni halls I’ll end up at, even though I want the experience.”

“Oh, how old are you?” Phil asks. It crosses his mind that Dan might be pretty young, baby face and all.

“Uh, 21.”

“Oh, cool. Are you working or anything?”

“Yeah, just some boring retail work, then I’ll go to university for some boring thing,” Dan says, with a small smile and nod.

“It’s probably not boring, what are you thinking?”

“Haven’t decided, really. So, do you know the people you’re living with or is this some awkward thing where you hide in your room?” Dan asks.

“No, we’re friends. We made kind of a friend group in the halls, I didn’t really want to live with that many people but we found this house with ten rooms to rent, super cheap, so we did it. There’s still only one shower to share but at least I know them,” Phil shrugged.

“One shower? This kind of sounds like a nightmare. I think I’d hate half of them by the end of a month.”

“Sometimes I think I do. I think I’ve just grown out of partying and no one else has, except for my one friend.”

“Oh, poor grandpa,” Dan coos, making Phil laugh.

“It’s bad, you don’t even know. Sometimes they want to go out 5, even 6 times a week!”

“Doesn’t sound like the kind of people you’d be friends with,” Dan comments. Phil thinks about that for a second.

“Sometimes I wonder if we’re only friends because we’re always together. And I became friends with them when I was trying really hard to live it up and party but now I’m wondering how I fell into so much peer pressure as an 18-year-old.” Phil says, smiling when Dan laughs a little.

“Even though it sounds like you hate it, I think I’d like to see party-Phil. But really, I get what you mean, sometimes it’s hard to find people you really, truly click with. Like, those people you feel like you’ve known forever and you can be your true self with.”

“When I’m older I think I’ll only live with someone if we have the same interests and I’m super close to them, maybe my best friend Anja. I think I’ll be staying in playing video games and board games and staying up late only to watch my favourite films. I can see it now, I’ll get so much more sleep,” Phil looks to the other side of his room wistfully, satisfied when the drama makes Dan laugh again.

“Honestly, me too,” he says.

He smiles at Dan, holding his gaze for a few moments. Dan can hold his eye contact easily, it’s hard not to stare back sometimes.

“So, I really liked your last videos, Phil,” Dan says.

“Space Adventure? I saw some of your comments, it was fun to see all your commentary.”

“Yeah, it was so cool and inventive. Like did you think it up and edit all yourself? It must have taken forever. I didn’t know you talked to Paperlillies either, wow.”

“Yeah, it did take a long time,” Phil says, feeling a bit shy. If only Dan knew the guilt Phil had over procrastinating his final project.

“And the song choices were awesome, it made it all so magical and intense. I can’t believe how creative you are.”

Phil smiles widely at him.

“I wish I could make something like that, you’re talented as hell.”

“You could upload videos yourself, you know. You’re funny.” And attractive enough to get popular, Phil thinks.

Dan laughs dryly.

“Yeah, I don’t think so. You’re getting a degree in film stuff, aren’t you? You don’t get to make it sound easy,” Dan says amusedly.

“Well you don’t have to make some weird sci-fi series, just tell a funny story to a camera! The Space Adventure really was just me procrastinating other work, most videos don’t take nearly that much.”

“I don’t know. People are mean on the Internet.”

“There’d be a lot of nice comments to outweigh the bad.”

He hears a muffle through the mic and nearly jumps when Dan yells, “one minute!” behind him, so loud that Phil makes a movement to take out his headphones.

“Sorry, I got to go,” Dan says, looking annoyed.

“Oh, roommates? Parents?”

“Yeah,” Dan says, not confirming which. “Can we talk again sometime?” He asks, raising his eyebrows and looking a bit restless all of a sudden. Phil doesn’t think anyone would be able to say no to a guy like Dan.

“Yeah! I need to rant to you more about Final Fantasy 7 sometime, I’ve been annoying my other friends for far too long.” He smiles wide.

Dan smiles back immediately, waving at the camera, waiting for Phil to hang up.

Phil grabs his laptop and slings his cord over his shoulder, walking out the door and to the next room over, tapping a strange beat on the wood with the corner of his laptop before pushing it open.

“What’s up?” Anja asks without looking up. She is scribbling fast on a piece of paper, calculator balanced on her knee, sheets of formulas and charts of isomers pinned up in front of her with flashes of highlighter lined everywhere. Her hair is pushed back with a headband so the short layers fall forward when she leans down to look at her notebook.

“Hey Einstein, can I work in here, too?” he asks, running his hand across her hair. She nods absentmindedly.

He still hears the familiar sound of people walking around in the kitchen downstairs, Andy talking in the next room, probably on the phone with his girlfriend again, and water running somewhere. He still always ends up hiding in Anja's room.

They have millions of excuses out of the constant clubbing and drinking, becoming more and more introverted each year. They’re doing their grad degrees, after all, but really they’re just nerds, Phil knows.

He crawls under the covers of her bed and pulls up his editing software. This final project has turned into a repetitive hell of cropping around body parts frame after frame until his hand is so cramped he can barely move.

“Is that really comfy for your neck?” Anja asks, looking back as he shoves another pillow behind his shoulders.

“No, I’m going to be crippled in two years probably.”

“So, who were you talking to?” She asks turning back to her work.

“Were you listening in to me?”

“Oh, I tried, but I could only hear mumbles. Who?”

“This guy.”

“Don’t be short, I always let you drag out details of the girls I like.”

“Well, I don’t know him very well. I don’t even know if he’s single,” he says.

“Look on his Facebook.”

“We’re not friends on there.”

“You’re Skyping before becoming Facebook friends? Isn’t there some sort of Internet dating etiquette to follow, like taking each step at a time?”

“Sorry you’re too old to understand what people do on the interwebs,” he says.

“Shut up. You’re just abnormally obsessed with that laptop, y’know. Just add the guy.”

Phil opens up Facebook, typing in Dan at the search bar before realizing he has no idea what his last name is. They have no mutual friends, he can’t even remember where he’s from.

After a few moments of deliberation, he pulls out his phone and types out a text.

_what’s ur last name?_

_y?_

_gonna add u_

It takes a few minutes for Dan to reply this time. Phil begins playing around in his half-done project, skimming through the clips to put off starting the actual work he has to do.

 “Any dreams about this guy?”

“Yeah, but I think it was just a random dream, I didn’t see any clear meaning in it.”

“You actually have normal dreams?”

“Yeah, I mean, if they all meant something I’d be sleeping with Sarah Michelle Gellar by now.”

“Don’t mention your sex dreams around me, I don’t need to know.”

_don’t stalk me lol…it’s howell_

_we'll see about that, howell_

He clicks back to his browser and types it in, seeing a familiar face in the profile picture. Decidedly less scandalous than the ones on Dailybooth, though. He adds him and searches through the top part of his page.

 _In a relationship with Erin Price_ it says.

The disappointment that flashes through him is a surprise. Does he have a real crush on this guy? Maybe it’s just lust, he is attractive after all. Shamelessly, he clicks on the name to bring up the girls’ page. She is pretty, with brown hair and brown eyes just like Dan, confident looking and cool.

“He has a girlfriend,” Phil says, letting the disappointment seep in.

She looks back to him, confusion in her eyes. She sets down her pencil, a clear indicator that she’s ready to talk.

“Did he lead you on?” She asks, worry sketched between her eyebrows.

“No, it’s not that big of a deal, really. We haven’t even talked that much. I don’t think I’d even date him in the first place.” He doesn’t look up at her now, just begins tediously cropping frames.

“I’ve heard you talking to someone quite a bit this week, if that’s all him, it seems like you’d know him better than that by now.” She keeps staring at him.

He shrugs.

“If you’re gonna ignore me and our Crash Bandicoot tournaments so much, I want to know the culprit and it’d better be good.” He grins back at her now, relaxing into the bed more and staring upwards at the ceiling.

“I mean, he was flirty, so it was just weird. I think that just might be his personality, maybe. Do you think flirting with someone on the Internet counts as infidelity?”

“I mean, what’s the difference to flirting in real life? Other than feeling more anonymous and like you’ll never be caught.” Anja says.

“Yeah…yeah, I guess that is weird. But whatever, he’s just fun to talk to. Really, not heartbroken.”

“Okay, just don’t fall for any assholes. I don’t trust all those emo guys on the Internet, they probably have scary shrines of you. I don’t even know how you’re getting so many followers, you’re pretty fugly, you know.” She smiles at him before turning back to her work.

“Yeah, well. Your mum.” He says, faking a glare. “On that note, how’s your girl?”

“She’s not my girl. Her name is Saania, I've told you this.”

“Well, how are things?” Phil urges on, seeing her smile slightly.

“I’m going over to hers tonight. Might stay there.” Anja smiles shyly at him for a moment.

“Anja!” He exclaims in faux shock, smiling wide.

“Let me work now, I have to leave in a couple hours because I want to stop at the florist's.”

“Let me know if you guys need a sperm donor.”

“You're fucking nasty.”

Phil finally turns back to his laptop, smiling absentmindedly.

He tries to imagine a job editing like this. Full-length feature films rather than ten-minute skits with university students, each frame needing to be meticulously chosen, coloured, cropped, and put together. The faces of his friends staring back at him through the dim screen, each expression between talking funnier than the last. The drama and subpar acting make it almost seem like a comedy but he is committed to achieving a full psychological thriller vibe, something reminiscent of his favourite films. He thinks he’ll like that kind of job, though it’ll never be the same as it is with his friends.

Even that won't ever be the same as what he makes alone in his bedroom. When he can film the shadows in his TV and kaleidoscope random objects to make patterns and download dramatic music from Myspace. When he can be himself, just a little bit. Just him but a bit more interesting and free.

Phil presses his head back on the pillow more, pulling the thin duvet further over his jeans. The laptop is angled down so awkwardly that all the colours look inverted. His eyes blur the hand he is slowly cutting around and a yawn bubbles up from his chest until he finally gives up, pushing the laptop to the side and throwing his glasses on top. 20 minutes rest, then he’ll work on it.

 

-

 

It feels like he’s been waiting forever. 

His chest is aching with restlessness, his brain screaming at him to do something, but he can’t move. He just keeps staring at the trains whizzing by, never stopping at the platform.

Not to get on, though. He just keeps searching for a brown fringe and tan skin through the square windows. It keeps slipping from his mind for a few moments here and there but he always comes back to looking for Dan.

Trains keep whizzing by, barely slowing down, and all he can see are faceless people staring out at him. It’s starting to feel like Dan will never arrive, but he has to, he promised. He checks his phone and it's 13:07.

Another train pulls up just as he’s wishing and praying and there is finally a shed of light. This train is going much slower, slow enough to see Dan standing there at the door. Phil starts walking alongside it, waiting for it to stop before he realizes it isn’t slowing down anymore. He knocks on the moving door, staring up into Dan’s face. Dan frowns and shakes his head.

Phil keeps walking along the train, picking up his steps in an awkward skip as the train speeds up. Dan is going out of his line of view now and Phil’s legs just won’t go any faster, as hard as he tries. Finally, the train disappears into a large tunnel in the wall. He hops down onto the tracks instinctively, staring into the cave, so pitch black, where not a thing can be seen.

 

-

 

He stirs softly, halfway in the dream, standing somewhere in the train station with an ache in his chest while he begins to feel the sheets of the bed around him. The more he infiltrates his subconscious with his own daydream, desperately trying to dive back in so he can bring Dan’s face back, the more he wakes up.

He shoves on his glasses and opens his phone where Dan and his messages are still open, his unanswered. His heart drops to see it's 13:07.

“Anja?” He says softly, letting himself sink into her pillow again. The longing is still in his chest, all the frustration, anxiety, and desire that he really shouldn’t be feeling.

“Yeah?” gives him only a quick, distracted glance.

“Nevermind,” he says, throwing his phone aside.


	4. three

Most of what he talks about with Dan is just video games, shows, movies, and music, though Dan often dominates the conversations about music while Phil drones on about Muse and the few soundtracks he listens to on repeat. He doesn’t mind this, they have a surprising overlap of interests that he and Anja just never seem to share. She reads books for days on end while Phil wants to watch every film in the world, and she actually likes sports, while he hasn’t run since high school gym class.

He wonders what it says about him that he thinks about fantasy worlds more than his own life. He falls asleep with a story on his mind and hopes it fills his dreams rather than the things happening in his life that must be dwindling in his subconscious. It's what made all the teachers say _back to planet earth, Lester_ when he zoned out thinking about the last Buffy episode and sketched out pentagrams between his notes. That's what his parents meant when he was a special one, probably.

Dan is a bit of an escape in that way. Somehow both idealistic and pessimistic with a witty mouth and his head stuck in fantastical and often more subversive media than Phil. He doesn’t know Dan much, though. Besides the fact that he’s 21 and probably living at home. He also has a girlfriend, who he doesn’t talk about ever. He's growing a bit curious as their friendship develops.

Today is a bit different, though, they’re being a bit more personal. Phil is trying to convince Dan to make a YouTube video. He can spot the longing in Dan miles away, with every self-deprecating remark and admiring comment.

“Okay, what are you scared about? Is it hate comments, that people won’t care, or that real life people will find it and judge you? Or something else?” Phil asks.

“All of the above. All the fears.”

The skype screen with Dan’s face is left in the background of his desktop while he slowly continues editing his final project. He clicks on every few minutes to see Dan staring attentively at the screen, laying on his stomach in full view of his webcam. Phil is grateful he’s just doing repetitive, menial work right now, cropping and resizing, so he can continue rambling to Dan. It’s fun, somehow.

“Well, okay. For hate comments, really it’s just pathetic people venting, I’m pretty sure. They won’t even show their face, I mean they’re mean and all, but you just can’t give them the time of day. As for people not caring? I think you’re more interesting than you think. You might not have a lot of people watching but some will love your videos. And, I mean, my parents haven’t found my YouTube, yet. I don’t really plan on telling them, and they’re scared of social media.”

Dan shrugs. “My grandma is pretty nifty with her Windows 1998, she just might find it.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re putting out, like, porn.”

“I could. I'd make a great cam-boy.” Dan wraps his elbow around the back of his head to stretch out his torso and stick out his tongue. Phil can tell he's trying to look absurd but his eyes widen anyway. Dan moves on in the next instant with his body slack again and a serious face on.

“I don’t even know what to make, I’m going to need some better ideas if I actually want to begin.”

“You were literally just telling me some great ideas. Procrastination, your hamster story. It’s funny. I think people will relate. I promise I’ll shout you out, too.”

“I don't know. Do I make an introduction video?”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“I’ll mull it over, that’s all I’ll promise, okay?”

Dan looks a bit distracted now, fiddling on his phone. He looks back on his editing software, clicking away almost grudgingly. He hears the vibration of a phone through his speaker.

“Is that your girlfriend?” He asks before he can overthink the question too much.

“My? What?”

“I saw it on Facebook, that’s all,” Phil says, hoping he sounds nonchalant.

“Oh…yeah, nothing important, though. You really did stalk me, didn’t you?” Dan says before putting his phone to the side, shifting his eyes between Phil and his phone.

“No! Well, just the front page, but everyone looks at that. So, what’s she like?” He asks, trying to tell what kind of expression is portrayed by Dan's raised eyebrows.

“Oh, well. Really nice and pretty.” Dan shrugs, staring down at his keyboard now, his voice rather monotone.

“How long have you been together?”

“Uh…three years.”

“Jesus! You’re going to be like one of those couples that get married early 20’s that I’m always jealous of because of how immature I am.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Dan lets out a snort of a laugh, more sarcastic than anything.

“Oh…three years just seems like such a long time,” Phil says.

“Yeah, I don’t know…I just have doubts sometimes.”

“Are you guys having some troubles or something?” Phil asks, picking at a piece of lint on his sweats. He's worried he's coming across as invasive.

“I don’t know, like not really. Have you ever felt like you’re doing something just because it’s the right thing to do?” Dan mutters, and Phil raises his eyebrows in sympathy.

“Fuck, no, I don’t mean that. She’s my best friend and she really is great, I just almost feel like I’m too young to be making these commitments. Like I want to experience more before I settle down.” Dan says. Phil stares attentively at the screen, surprised by the sudden openness.

“21 is pretty young to be settling down, you shouldn’t feel like you have to make all those decisions. I mean, I’m 23 and haven’t had a long-term relationship ever. You shouldn’t force it if it’s not right.” Phil says.

“Yeah…I guess.”

“I don’t know what you guys are like but you should talk to her about it,” Phil says.

“I’m surprised you haven’t been in a relationship. I mean, look at you.” Dan says suddenly, looking up to the screen. Phil feels a blush spread on his cheeks.

“Oh, uh, I mean…. Not really, like I’ve had flings and stuff but I’m not great with that kind of stuff.”

“You’re being modest. You’re probably just a heartbreaker.” Dan says, smirking at him. Phil laughs at that.

“Definitely not. Really, people don’t get crushes on me much.”

“Okay, I see your comments online, you can’t tell me people aren’t hitting on you all the time, boys and girls.” Dan raises his eyebrows.

“That’s different, though.”

“How?”

“You get to be your best-self online. No one is as interesting offline, it’s like people like this super interesting video-me and see pictures that likely have 50 outtakes. Totally different.” Phil explains.

“Yeah. I get that.” Dan frowns for a moment. “What are you like offline then?”

“Boring. As I said, I’ve pretty much given up with going out with my friends every night, I just play games and watch movies, really. Quite a menial life.” Phil stares at the wall behind his laptop to avoid the puzzling look Dan is giving him.

“Well, as I said, I think that sounds perfect.”

Phil looks back at the laptop, watching Dan stare at the screen with a small smile on his face. His dimple is caved in and it looks as though his eyes are sparkling. Phil opens and closes his mouth once, unsure of what to say.

“Also, you can’t say you’re only attractive in your pictures. I see you here on Skype bundled up in bed with glasses and you—it’s still a good look.” Dan smiles at him. Phil’s eyes widen and he clears his throat.

“Well, you too. I don’t get how you’re so self-deprecating, you look cute even in pyjamas and all,” Phil says, smiling. He feels a bundle of nerves in his gut suddenly. It's a bit painful, he never really knows when his compliments go too far.

Dan looks down, clearing his throat loudly and avoiding looking at the screen. It must have been the wrong thing to say.

“Well hey, I hope things work out with you and your girlfriend, and I’m sure if you just talk it through you can find some middle ground,” he says quickly.

“Yeah, you’re right. So, you’re not dating anyone right now? No girl…or boy in your life?” Dan asks.

“No. I mean I’m busy and it doesn’t come naturally to me, really. It is weird to see my friends literally getting married around me, though. I’m not very mature if you hadn’t noticed. One day I’ll be a real man.” He says, deepening his voice until it’s amusingly raspy and low.

“Well, you’re not boring, at least. Half those couples are going to divorce in a year anyway, just you watch.”

“Yeah, I’ll get married when they’re on their fourth marriages with 12 kids already.”

“Exactly.”

He has finally reached a new scene of his movie and he stares at the frame for a long while before closing off. His head is heavy from the work. He’d much rather edit AmazingPhil, fast and messy and idiosyncratic rather than meticulous and serious.

Dan is quiet now, looking down at his phone.

“Hey, it’s getting late, I should really sleep,” Phil says.

“Oh. Alright, goodnight Phil.”

Dan is texting away on his small mobile so Phil just slowly moves his mouse and ends the call. He feels a bit confused about the vibe between them but they don't seem close enough to ask about it.

He rushes through brushing his teeth and yanking off his clothes but then he crawls back on his laptop as soon as he’s under the covers. He’s hunched down all the way with the clunky computer on his chest as he begins scrolling through social media, barely reading the posts he passes. Only the light of the screen illuminates him.

He’s gone a couple hundred subscribers over 50,000, he realizes with a lurch to his stomach. He hadn’t even noticed. His heartbeat picks up in his chest and he’s not sure where the anxiety is coming from. It’s a good, exciting thing. Maybe too exciting. The reality of it all hasn’t hit him for a while now.

This is his only real paycheck aside from the money his parents send him. It’s only a few hundred pounds at most, not nearly enough to live on, but it’s the money he can spend on pizza and video games guilt-free, the one paycheck that makes him feel like he’s a bit independent. It’s been increasing, too. So much so that it could help him out greatly, if his subscriber count doesn’t drastically stoop one of these days.

One of his notifications says _get a room lol_ and he has a nervous hunch when he clicks on it. It's a picture of Dan, one that he'd left a compliment on. It makes him feel strange.

He looks through his other comments. A lot of people are hitting on him, but the odd person is also typing out words and insults that leave a foul taste in his mouth.

He wonders what it is about himself that elicits these kinds of assumptions about him. He wonders if anyone sees the same in him in real life, some sort of pointed femininity within his actions, overwhelming childishness past the point of endearment, obnoxiousness in his creations or the hunch that he’s a posing fake, something strange that makes them think he wants to send pictures of his feet to strangers for money. He wants to take his own advice about listening to strangers on the Internet.

He doesn’t mind that his videos are a bit immature and childish, most days. He doesn’t want to tell all his friends about them, but they’re fun. They’re straight from that piece of him that he doesn’t want to lose, the personality that still loves silly sci-fi and stupid jokes and animals and creating things. He sees so many people mellow out with age, he sees Anja delve more and more into academics each year, he sees his brother coming home wearing dress shirts and ties after meetings. He wants to hold onto something else for a while.

It’s stupid. It’s stupid that he’s talking to so many actual kids on the Internet without jobs, not the kind of people that would help him get a professional job in the next few months. At least, that’s what his dad would say.

Usually, when scrolling through the pictures on his feed and seeing his friends, he eventually forgets to care. He’ll hold onto this for as long as he can, keep making the friendships that might not matter so much in the long run.

Phil pushes his laptop on the floor. Somedays the notifications are just as scary as they are exciting, spiking his adrenaline so he can’t sleep. It’s absurd, and he knows that when his YouTube channel ends he’ll be all the more devastated for getting so attached to this hobby.

He turns over on his side and tries to sleep. Tries not to think about Dan or his too-public presence on the Internet.

 

-

 

They’re enclosed in a small, silver casket with miles of town stretching out beyond the small windows. Dan smiles at him, edging closer still.

Despite his nerves, Phil finally makes eye contact, holding his gaze. Dan stares back and the only feature Phil can focus on is his sparkling brown eyes. Dan looks up and down his face before leaning in. He’s going to kiss Phil, he can immediately tell.

A large lurch throws them a few feet apart, ripping the moment away. The whole wheel has shifted beneath him. Phil looks out the windows to see an unmistakable swaying in the air so he grabs the seat with one hand and Dan with the other, looking all around him for some kind of escape.

“Don’t move, it’s unstable!” Phil yells.

“Did you just try to kiss me?” Dan asks. Phil is overcome with confusion as he whips his head back to Dan’s face to see a deep set grimace, eyebrows furrowed with his mouth downturned in disgust.

“I...no...I didn’t,” Phil begins.

Dan laughs but it's different than usual, it sounds cruel. He stands up as though he needs to get away from Phil.

“Stop moving so much!” Phil begs. He wants to reach out and grab Dan but he’s scared of the reaction he might get.

“You shouldn't even try with me,” Dan says, walking to the far side of the wheel as if it’s nothing, the metal eliciting loud creaking in time with his steps.

The wheel topples over, falling fast and violent, and the sharp wind on Phil’s face is unmistakable.

 

-

 

He wakes with a lurch, immediately spreading his limbs in a starfish under his sheets to catch his fall. His whole body feels hot and slick with sweat.

He immediately gets up, yanking some pyjamas on and moving quickly through the cold air with a pillow in his hand until he gets to Anja’s room. He jumps over her, careful not to jostle the bed too much until he can settle in the bit of space left beside her. Pulling her blankets further over him, he nestles into her soft sheets, the smell already a comfort. He can feel the heat emitting off her body and moves as close as he can without touching her. If he hugged her she might wake up in a fright.

“Phil?” She mumbles, her voice raspy and low. Shit.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“You okay?” She asks, her voice cracking as it raises to a tone of worry.

“Bad dream, that’s all.”

“Oh, like a _dream_ dream?” He stays quiet. “Wanna talk ‘bout it?” She turns over on her back, stretching her arm out to him, eyes still closed. He shuffles over and rests his head on the space between her chest just below her shoulder, warmth radiating onto his cheek. She plays with his hair affectionately.

“I don’t know. Do you really think my dreams really mean something?”

“Huh?”

“Like, maybe they’re just random after all?” He says slowly.

“I think I’ve known you for long enough to know your dreams aren’t all that random. 

“I mean, what do I get to know, though? Like, the weather, what you’re going to eat for breakfast, what chores Mum was going to ask me to do? All the big ones just seem incomprehensible. I've died in dreams before but nothing all that bad has happened to me.”

“I reckon they’re more symbolic than that. And it doesn’t always seem insignificant.”

He frowns.

“Tell me about it, then, let’s figure it out.” She begins sitting up in bed.

“Shit, no, I didn’t mean to pull you out of bed, go back to sleep. It’s not even eight.” He says, glancing over her arm at the alarm clock.

“Well my alarm is set for eight, that’s a normal time to get up, you know. Are you going back to bed?”

“Don’t think I can.”

“Go make us coffee then.” She pulls away from him a bit, pulling a hand up to run through her hair that’s all messed up around her face. A bit of black makeup is smudged under her eyes making her eye bags prominent. He thinks she’s pretty nonetheless, bright hazel eyes and red cheeks.

He complies immediately, hopping off the bed to hurry down the stairs. Old floors creak beneath his feet. He runs his finger along the scratches on the wall, memories of his roommates clumsily carrying furniture up the winding, narrow stairs coming back to him. Shoes are thrown all around by the front door creating a feeling of crowdedness but at this hour things are actually quiet. For once, Phil is up before everyone has begun being rambunctious. The stillness is overwhelming and comforting, he begins to walk more careful for the hope that everyone will stay asleep for longer.

His dreams are usually menial, that is true. At a young age, he began to realize the weather he saw in his dream was always the weather that happened the next day, without fail. He began watching the weather report, sitting with his Pokemon cards, glancing over at the little blocky TV where his parents sat. He’d be a much better weatherman when he was older, he always thought, so much that he’d go to his room and practice in the mirror and everything.

“Don’t let those clear skies trick you! From that direction,” here he would point out his window dramatically, “dark grey clouds will come and cover the sky and begin lighting up with lightning bolts and make the loudest thunderclaps you’ve ever heard! Then, the cats will begin raining down, 50 inches of cats are expected tonight!” He made up a few dramatic lies, but that was only because it made his brother laugh from his bunk bed. The rest came true so often that his family started ignoring the weather report and asking him questions before their trips into town. Grandma was always calling Mum to ask about what he was saying, so often that Kathryn started letting it go to voicemail half the time.

Those were the easy predictions, he didn’t know what else to believe between his dreams about animals and Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all his friends, but sometimes he thought it all meant something.

Anja was one of the only people who was eccentric enough to believe him. After telling her the weather for a few weeks and correctly guessing the breakfasts her mother made when he slept over, she had full trust in him. Always the smart one, she made it her personal mission to analyze his dreams all throughout their friendship. 

She bought him a little diary with a lock on it, told him to hide it under the mattress so no one could find out about it and take advantage of him. Phil was to write his dreams every morning when he woke up, all the details he’d come to know to be predictions and all the inconceivable and irrational little visuals that Phil could barely describe.

While many came to be unanswerable, Anja was better at finding meaning.

There was the one dream where Kyle had been the prince of the castle while Phil’s girlfriend, Emily was the princess. Phil was a mere joker, always making Kyle laugh and never able to get closer to Emily. Anja told him to be careful of his feelings and in the next few days, he found out the two of them had snogged outside of a movie theatre and Kyle was mean to him for the rest of the school year.

A bit later on, his rabbit Holly had gone missing for the night. It was his fault, really, it’d been his turn to take out the trash and he left the door open, not even considering the little bunny that ran around like a house cat. He went to bed with tears in his eyes, partially from his yelling parents but mostly from his heartbreak. That night, he dreamt that Holly became the ruler of mice, sitting in a wooden fort before rows of little mice, bowing down before her.

Anja had come early in the morning after Kath had called her Mum with the news. Look out for a rabbit hopping down our street, she’d said, without knowing Anja was holding the other receiver. Anja was determined to find it. They walked around the neighbourhood with the dream journal in hand, looking for any clues they could. The thought came as sudden as if a lightbulb had really lit up above her head.

Mice! Of course! Larry’s shed was infested with mice after he tried to hide his beer bottles behind the lawnmower for a week to feign sobriety to his wife. The strange married couple down the street was dysfunctional and loud, yelling so much that the neighbours heard all the gossip and spread it down the street until Phil and Anja heard it all from their Mums on the phone.

They ran down the street, sneaking into the yard without a peep, and there Holly was, curled up in the corner of the shed next to a crack in the wood.

Phil had dreams about Anja, too. In one of them during year 11, the pretty girl in their art class named Kate had given Anja a rose in her dream. Anja went deep into the investigation, sitting next to her in class and barely paying attention to anything else, but Anja was determined to find the meaning, more determined than Phil had ever seen her before. 

Then, someone told Anja that Kate started spreading rumours that she was a lesbian. It all stopped for a while. Maybe the dreams were all full of shit, she’d said. Or maybe it’d been her fault for not thinking about the prickles on the roses, an obvious symbolism for evil. In any way, it was too dangerous to believe in dreams so much, you could easily get it all wrong. After she’d sat in Phil’s room and cried to him, he stopped telling her all his complicated dreams.

Bad dreams seem to come more frequently now, but maybe bad things just happen to adults more, he thinks. He doesn’t want to think about them too much, either, not the dreams about failing his tests and being rejected, or about his friends fighting and his Mum being sad. There were only a few that he pondered now. After he dreamt about Grandma growing wings and flying away into the sun, he called Mum crying and his suspicions were confirmed.

She was the one that gave him such powers, at least that’s what the family assumed. Burying herself into Wicca books and tarot cards and teacups, telling the family about things to expect, and being a bit too eccentric for everyone but Phil. Now he wishes he could ask her more things.

Instant coffee is ready eventually and he carries the two mugs up the stairs, some hot liquid spilling over onto the back of his hand.

Anja is sitting up in bed with a sweatshirt thrown over her t-shirt. She makes grabby hands for the coffee.

He crawls in bed close to her and they drink in silence for a few minutes, the lack of sleep hanging over his head like a heavy blanket. The nervous energy he always gets right after drinking coffee is slow to kick in.

“So, what was this dream you had.” Anja finally asks, sitting cross-legged, a new alertness in her eyes.

“Dreams plural. It’s going to sound creepy.”

“You are a creep, just tell me.”

“So, you know that guy I've been Skyping? I've had a few dreams about him.”

“You and him are going to bang aren’t you,” Anja’s eyebrows raise.

“No, they’re way more sinister than that. Like, an owl attacked us. Then the second one was just kind of weird, he wouldn’t get off the train or let me get on to see me, and he disappeared into a dark tunnel. This one was the worst, we were in the Manchester Eye, I think, and it tipped over. He kind of made it happen, too, like he almost kissed me but then he accused me of kissing him and then he wouldn’t stop moving so it tipped over.”

Anja furrows her eyebrows, looking suddenly more tired as she rubs her eyes.

“That’s a lot. Owls are bad omens, you know. Is he homophobic, do you think?" 

“I don’t think so. He’s flirty sometimes.”

“But he has a girlfriend?”

Phil nods awkwardly.

“I mean, that doesn’t make him sound like a great guy. Maybe the train thing means he’s going to leave you. Or just not let you in, or whatever. The wheel dream is scary like he’s going to actually hurt you.”

Phil wonders how Anja can have such clear thoughts about his dreams still. It makes sense, but then again, none of it seems to be coming true yet.

“He seems like a really nice guy, though. He’s never been mean,” Phil says. Jokingly insulting, maybe. A bit condescending. Kind of distant. He doesn’t know Dan all that much, he supposes.

“I don’t know, Phil. I think maybe you should trust your dreams this time.” She says. He looks up to see a genuinely worried expression etched into her face.

“I mean, he is a good friend. We’ve seemed romantic in my dreams so maybe if we stay platonic, it’ll be okay.”

“You can’t control your feelings, though. You already have a crush on him, don’t you?” She asks, but he’s already shaking his head. 

“I don’t! It’s fine. Besides, I don’t want my dreams to control my life, do I really not have any say in the matter that he’s going to hurt me?”

“I don’t know. Kath would know better than me.”

He nods. He has the feeling this dream stuff still scares Anja. She’s fidgeting with the sheets and lacking the excitement and curiosity she used to have. 

“Kath always knows,” Phil agrees, sitting up more.

“Since I’m sad, wanna distract me and play Crash Bandicoot?” He asks, smiling when Anja’s face finally lights up.

“Fine, you muck.”


	5. four

 

 

It’s beautiful. Such an all-encompassing beauty that Phil doesn’t think he can look away.

The sun is setting and colours seem to shoot out of the horizon with hues of pink and orange and purple, so vibrant it looks like a painting, wet liquid swirling and blurring together in a mix of colours. Buildings are silhouetted in front but recognizable still; there’s the town hall, gothic and grand looming over the streets, the stadium, silver and shining from far out, and the big wheel, lights already turned on and sparkling despite the flames in the sky. Further off he can point in the direction of his home, the home that will probably feel more comfortable than any building he lives in through adulthood, up on top of a grassy hill of twisting suburban roads and carefully planted willows.

He looks to the side and there, the only thing that can pull his eyes away from such an impossible view.

Dan is bathed in the light more than any of the landmarks in front of him, making his skin glow orange and red hues stand out in his eyes. A sudden fondness aches in his chest.

Dan is moving closer to the edge, peering over the balcony. This place is familiar.

“Look, Phil.”

He shuffles forward, eyes following Dan’s outstretched hand to the streets immediately below him. The crowd barely jolts him, but he’s surprised he didn’t notice them before. There have to be hundreds of people shuffling around and crowding on the street immediately below the high rise building they’re in. Like little ants below their feet, shuffling through each other and making patterns with the colours of their clothes. The buildings are gone.

He sees hands reach up, pointing and reaching to meet Dan’s hands tilted down.

“I should go to them,” Dan says, softly.

“What? No, just stay with me, this was all for us,” Phil says, beckoning to the table behind him. Tall mimosa's sit on either side and their food will be soon, surely.

“You know I like it here alone with you. But this is my life.” Dan turns to face Phil and cocks his head to enunciate his words.

“What about our life, though?” Phil asks, walking towards their table, desperate for Dan to follow. He freezes when he sees Dan hop up onto the ledge, sitting with his body angled towards the drop so he can peer down.

He hears muffled voices which slowly get louder until he can make out clear cheering from below. For Dan, and maybe him too.

“You’re my best-kept secret, but this is the life I have chosen. I haven't been completely honest until now. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Phil tries to make his legs move, he really does, but it’s as if they’re suddenly moving through thick mud, sluggish and slow, until Dan has already disappeared below the edge of the ledge. He hears screams from below.

 

-

 

Phil wakes up with a terrible feeling in his gut, the aftermath of something horrible and the anxiety of knowing something will go wrong still.

He looks across the room. His suitcase is thrown open with clothes messily thrown in, with lamps, cords, and DVD’s messily sorted underneath. Posters of Sarah Michelle Gellar still have to be ripped down from the wall, but the room is completely bare otherwise. It surprises him for a moment to see his closet and desk so empty but the gas money sitting on the desk quickly jogs his memory. He’s leaving today, forever.

He fumbles with his glasses and checks the time, moving slowly and leisurely, worried the horrible feeling in his gut might make him nauseous. Without much thought, he clicks onto Dan’s contact in his phone, only slightly aware of how silly it is to check up on him.

Dan didn't talk to him for a few days after his chat with Anja. Phil told himself over and over that it was for the best but it caused the most frustrating curiosity in his gut so he messaged Dan and was met with such exuberant friendliness it was as though nothing was ever off between them. They talked a lot after that, every day for a couple weeks, delving deep into theories about Lost and even sometimes just sitting in silence, Dan playing guitar hero while Phil edited. They didn’t talk much about personal things and to be completely honest, Phil didn't really want to.

_ wanna skype? O.o _ he texts after a few moments of consideration. He pushes his head into the pillow, feeling like a headache might come on soon. It might just be his emotions running high.

Phil stares at his phone screen for a few moments, just waiting for a message to pop up. He starts running through the things Dan might be doing right now that don't involve him being dead before a reply finally pops up.

_ yes plz ^.^ _

He’s relieved. He lays back and breathes for a few moments, waiting for his paranoid heart to catch up to his brain. It really does seem like a good idea to talk to Dan right now, anyway, before he’s in the car with Anja for hours and then catching up with his family for the next few days. He doesn’t have it in him to feel silly about missing Dan. Everyone misses their friends, he can barely handle the nostalgia he’s already feeling as he moves out of this shared rental house, even if he is grateful to be getting away from the crowdedness.

He finally opens up Skype.

Dan’s smile is the first thing he sees when the screen loads. He’s glad that this is a good mood day. Dan is distant and moody on certain days, for no reason Phil can tell, but this smile is genuine. It reaches his eyes in little wrinkles, but he looks youthful despite them. An expression that leaves none of his thoughts a secret with that sparkle in his eye.

“Hey, Phil. I’m glad you called.” He says, smiling still.

“Oh, why?”

Dan pauses for a moment, a puzzling look on his face.

“Just happy to talk to you, that’s all really.” Dan laughs softly. Sometimes he laughs when there isn’t anything really funny, almost as if the joy is just bursting out of him and anything Phil says is something silly to pick apart.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Phil comments, noticing that he’s quickly moving there too. His spirits have already lifted after the strangely vivid dream that felt like it would shadow him all day. Dan shrugs at him, looking to the side like he’s deep in thought.

He isn’t sure what he had planned to say once Dan actually answered the call.  _ Hey, you died in my dream and said some cryptic stuff, are you okay? _ He’s more than happy to pretend this was an impromptu Skype call and pretend his mood is just as great as Dan’s. Before he can think of something to say, Dan begins speaking softly.

“I’ve been…thinking a lot. My life is a mess, it really is, but I feel like things are coming together in my own head if that makes sense.”

“Oh. What have you been thinking about?”

“Oh, like...lots of things,” Dan says, faltering slightly.

Phil stares at him, waiting expectantly. He doesn’t want Dan to stop, not today. He wants to know what is going on in his head, what all the scattered, elusive rambling really means to Dan. Especially now, when a distraction would be amazing. He wanted to fill that gap, where he feels so close to Dan but like he’s still missing so much, like some kind of blockage in their potential friendship.

He wonders where all the fondness is coming from. After such a prominent feeling that he was going to lose him, he just wants him closer, whatever parts he can get.

“Tell me one thing, I’m curious,” Phil says, knowing it might be pushy.

Maybe too pushy, he thinks, watching Dan squirm all of a sudden. The smile is gone. He doesn’t know what he said wrong.

Dan stutters for a moment but then looks up to the camera, a surprisingly scared expression on his face. Phil is about to take back his words before Dan speaks.

“I’m, uh, bisexual. Figured that out. Well, admitted it,” he finally says, swallowing.

“That’s awesome, Dan!” Phil says immediately before he can let any sort of silence happen between them. He sits up straighter.

“You’re the first person I’ve told, actually,” Dan says, shy.

Phil pauses, staring at Dan with fondness. That’s what the fear in Dan’s eyes was, not some shady secret. 

He thinks back to the times he’s done this same thing. He kept it as simple as possible with his family, saying he liked boys and girls and received rather solemn responses. People like you don’t get treated right. He rambled on to a lot of friends, trying to explain himself through the awkwardness, a subtle no, I won’t hit on you beneath all his words.

Perhaps the only great response he can remember was Anja if he thinks about it. True excitement, a big hug in response as though he’d given her a gift rather than a complicated little confession.

“I’m really happy for you,” Phil blurts out. “Really, I see why you’re happy, it’s so great to feel like you’ve figured out something about yourself. It’s awesome that you’re bi, and I hope you don’t think anything else.”

Dan beams at him, fidgeting around.

“I mean, are you really surprised? I feel like everyone already assumes. That I’m like, fully gay, really.” Dan says. Phil can tell it’s a bit self-deprecating.

“Doesn’t matter. Just you telling me is a big deal. Like, in a good way.” Phil says.

“Yeah…yeah, I thought it might be something I kept to myself for a while but it’s nice to say it.”

“Yeah. It’s a great feeling. Don’t hide stuff inside so much.”

“I think I have the opposite problem, really, I can’t stop oversharing,” Dan says, letting out a chuckle.

“Not to me, it doesn’t seem,” Phil says, furrowing his eyebrows. Dan drops his head immediately, a strange look flashing across his face, and Phil immediately feels guilty. They’re having a vulnerable conversation, he shouldn’t bring it up.

“Sorry, sorry, I don’t mean to sound like you have to tell me everything. I just want to be close friends.” Phil says. He’s still rambling, he should have woken up more before he called Dan, he thinks.

“I thought we were,” Dan says pointedly.

“We are! I just want to know more about you, like I want to be close to you. Sometimes I feel like you’re very private,” Phil says. He can feel his eyebrows tilted upwards and creasing his forehead but he can’t seem to wipe the worry off his face. 

“Yeah, I want to be close to you, too. I’ve realized that a lot,” Dan is looking down at his lap.

He wants to retract all that he said, but he isn’t exactly sure where he’d gone so wrong.

Phil feels a bit nervous now, watching Dan’s face flash an ensemble of confusing and sad emotions. This guy was truly mysterious, blocking all his thoughts while appearing so open and vulnerable at the same time. Phil wonders if he really knew him at all or if it was all some sort of mirage he made up in his brain.

“I know I haven’t been sharing that much, but I don’t want you to think I’m pathetic,” Dan says quietly.

“I really don’t think I would. Just explain what you mean?”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I won’t hate you, Dan. Promise.”

“I’ve really fucked this up because we could be something. Like, you’re one of the closest people to me right now so I don't know why I was always being an idiot. And I need you to know I never meant anything malicious, I just never thought you’d actually be my friend so I made myself more like who I want to be on the Internet.”

“Oh God, you’ve catfished me,” Phil says.

“What? Not really, I mean, I am Dan. Dan Howell is real, you did find me on Facebook. I talk to you about all my real interests and stuff. It’s almost like I’m more myself on the Internet than who I am in real life. I just get to pretend the more pathetic parts of my life aren’t real. I don’t want you to know all that shitty stuff. The days I do nothing but lay in bed and feel shitty, how horrible of a son I am, and boyfriend for that matter, how I really don't have any hopes and dreams some days. No one wants to hear that.”

Dan’s looking at him with wide eyes now, arms moving as he talks quickly, nearly stumbling over his words.

“And I’m a bit younger than I said,” Dan adds on before Phil can reply. Phil forgets what he was going to say.

“You’re a minor, aren’t you?” Phil says, putting a hand to his forehead. 

“No, I’m 18. I swear it, I can take out my driver’s license right now.”

“Why did you lie about that?” Dan flinches when Phil says the word ‘lie’. He eyes up a red spot burning into Dan’s cheek. 

“I just thought it might be too young for…you. I mean, you’re finishing grad school while I’m fresh out of college. It’s weird. I didn’t think you'd talk to me if I was just a teenager. I didn't think things would go this far."

“Go this far?”

“You’re like, popular. You have a lot of friends. I didn’t think you’d be mine. I was just trying to get some responses for the fun of it, then you started adding me on everything and I wasn't sure how to take it.”

Phil leans back against the wall and pushes his glasses up on his nose. He stares at the wall in front of him, avoiding the screen.

He thinks he might need to be madder than he actually is. There is no burning in his chest, his hands aren’t shaking like they always do when someone hurts him. He feels more empathetic than anything.

But how foolish is that? To find out he’s been lied to for months and only feel closer to Dan is absurd. He doesn’t really know him, after all.

“I fancy you,” Dan says.

Phil whips his eyes back to the screen. Dan is fully blushing now, the red mark like a stamp on his cheek.

It shouldn’t be surprising, really, but it makes Phil speechless for a few moments.

"God, now I'm fucking blurting out everything." Dan leans forward to put his head in his hands. Phil searches for something to say before Dan can go on.

“So, you were trying to impress me?” Phil asks, surprised his voice is so calm. His heart is beating harder now despite his mind screaming at him to just think rationally.

“Yeah. Are you mad at me or can I try to explain? My brain is kind of muddled, but if there’s any way I can fix this or make you understand…like, will you let me try?” Dan asks.

Phil pauses for a couple moments before slowly nodding. He can’t say no, really. Not with his heart softening even more. He watches Dan take a deep breath, clearly riddled with nerves, and feels the urge to tell him everything is okay. But he waits.

“Well, I’m bi, you know that now. I thought I liked guys for a while, y’know weird crushes on a couple friends and guys online and all that. I did some stuff with a guy friend a few years ago but really, I can’t experiment, I’ve had a girlfriend and people just…weren’t nice about it at school. So, I went online where I was usually lurking and made accounts on all these places that my real-life friends don’t go, didn’t put my last name or anything personal anywhere. Just pictures. I just flirted with some guys, looked at their pics, saw how it felt. And God, I thought you were hot. When you talked to me I thought there was no harm in pushing it, being just a bit older and a bit less pathetic so I could flirt with you. I wasn’t even going to tell you about my girlfriend. I thought I’d fucked it all up when you added me on Facebook. And yeah, I like you, for real now. Here I am, I’ve fallen for you and I mucked it all up before I even realized, aren’t I a fuck up.”

Dan breathes for a moment, shoulders tense.

Phil jumps at a knock on the door.

“Phil, you better be packed soon! I can see all your bathroom stuff still in the cupboard, you know,” Anja calls out, and he watches as the door slowly opens for her to peak in.

“I’ll get it! Not now, Anja,” Phil beckons to his laptop. He feels bad, he can feel the nerves through the screen. He tries to communicate through his eyes to tell Anja to leave him alone.

“Oh. Uh…well we’re leaving soon, be fast,” Anja says, there’s confusion in her eyes as she slowly shuts the door. Phil has no doubt that her brain will be racing trying to figure out what he’s on about today.

He looks back to Dan quickly, an apology in his eyes, and quickly tries to think of what Anja would say if he asked for advice on this. Or his mum, even. He needs advice.

He knows what it’s like to find that corner of your life that is queer and cling onto it, careful not mix it with anything else.

“I think I understand. I wouldn’t say I trust you the same, but it’s not the worst thing I could imagine.” Phil says, choosing his words carefully.

“I’m sorry, Phil, I really am. And I don’t want to lose whatever we have.” Dan says.

“What about your girlfriend?” Phil asks.

“I’m going to talk to her. I don’t think we’ve been happy together, and I need to find myself, you know. I want to live my truth and I feel like I’m trapping myself. That’s another thing I figured out recently. It’s not fair to her, really. And, y’know, I fancy you, there’s that little issue.”

“You’re not leaving her for me, Dan,” Phil says, so strict that it surprises himself slightly. He sees a frown flash across Dan’s face.

“I—I know. I still need to do it for me, though. Even if you don’t see me that way.”

Dan looks up at the camera, hurt. 

His feelings are so mixed it’s hard to find clarity. Anyone else would tell him this is a red flag, probably.

“I just want to be friends, Dan,” Phil says slowly, watching Dan’s face carefully. “But I mean it about being friends, I don’t think you’ve ruined this, if you’re honest with me now I think we could be really good friends. I want to talk more, but I think I got to get going,” he says, a bit hesitant.

Dan nods, mouth downturned at the corners and sad but he quickly gives a weak smile, the action looking a little forced. 

“I didn't really mean...I mean yeah, yeah we'll be friends. Of course, I want to be honest, and I've wanted to for a while now,” Dan says.

“I’m glad you told me, really. And I’m sorry about getting mad at you after you came out to me, it shouldn’t have been that scary for you.”

“You reacted fine, Phil. Really. But yeah, I might have fucking heart palpitations all day from that stress but it’s like a weight off my shoulders that you know my secret now. I’ve been scared to tell you for too long,” Dan says.

“Well, now you need to tell me about all the things in your life that you think is pathetic, I want to know who Dan Howell is, okay?”

“Yeah, for sure. You’re going to get too much of me, probably, you’ll hate me by the end,” Phil laughs, but notices that Dan is still looking solemn.

“I only see me liking you more,” Phil says, watching Dan just raise his eyebrow in disbelief.

“We’ll see.”

Phil stares at him for a moment, letting himself breathe now that the conversation has settled down. He supposes he can show Dan with time. While he figures out his own head.

“Hey, I’m leaving today. That’s what she was talking about. No loud party-animal friends and sharing a shower with ten people anymore,” Phil says.

“Yeah? Already? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah. Anja hates being late, she’s driving me home. It’s a long drive too, will you text me and keep me company?” Phil asks. His chest warms at the genuine smile that pops up.

“Yeah, Phil, I will.”

“Okay, good. We’ll talk about this again, you have to be honest with me.”

“Fuck, I promise I will, Phil. It was a bad idea, I haven’t been myself lately.”

Phil starts sitting up, ready to end the call, frustrated that Anja wants to leave so early. It feels like there is so much he needs to ask. So much about Dan that he’s about to learn. He tries to put on a smile.

“I’m hanging up for real now,” Phil says before he can start rambling. 

Dan pouts at him but nods and Phil moves his mouse over the end call button, waving excitedly.

Once the Skype screen closes, he sinks down in his bed feeling exhausted and exhilarated all at the same time.

 

-

 

With Phil’s mugs and plates haplessly shoved into garbage bags and wrapped in newspaper, they’re finally packed. It’s messy but all of their stuff, all the laptops and gaming consoles, bulging suitcases, and Anja’s stacks of books are shoved into her tiny 1996 Honda Civic coupe, packed to the ceiling so she can’t see through her rear-view mirror.

He’s grateful they have no furniture to take home but he also wonders how they survived with only these belongings for so many years at university. Soon he’ll be expected to move out on his own for good and he has next to nothing to call his own. He barely feels different than he did right after high school, with no money or job or assets aside from a clunky, horrendously slow laptop. He thinks he should lower the priority of that expensive filming camera he’d been looking at online.

Anja has a few mixed CD’s packed into the glove box, all the Muse songs she can stand to listen to, along with popular alternative rock songs they both love. Phil’s pretty sure she has a copy of Mr. Brightside on every CD, and he’s pretty sure they’ll sing along every time.

She’s waiting for him to share what he talked about with Dan, he can tell by her periodic glances, but he’s taking a few moments to just stare forward and breathe. The morning was exhausting, trying to remember what belonged to whom all while saying goodbyes to everyone left living there. His friends made mimosa's, which Phil barely had the energy to react to, and sat to reminisce in the little time they had. It doesn’t seem like enough closure after living together so long, and Phil doesn’t know if anyone is being serious in their promises to talk all the time. Perhaps going their separate ways was best, but it hurts nonetheless. He’ll never have these days of coexisting with the people he went through so much with. He hated it some days, the mess and noise and drama and expectations, but now all he can think about are the fun time they had and it feels like no home he ever has will bring him such happiness and excitement. He's basically done being a student.

He’s almost graduated, just one more assignment to hand in online and then—granted he passes—he will be an independent adult with two degrees. It seems more daunting than exciting, and the certificates don’t give him the confidence he expected. He listens to the business students talk about the recession hitting the UK, sees all the statistics of students not finding jobs and watches as his older friends grudgingly apply at grocery and retail stores. It’s going to be him, he can feel it in the pit of his stomach.

Maybe he should have listened when his asshole uncle said he wouldn’t be able to do anything with an English degree, and maybe he should have looked up how rare post-production jobs were in Manchester. Now he’s thrown out into the world without any real direction, no relationship, no job, no savings, and no idea what to do.

He just kind of wants it to stop, yeah. He wants to sit and relax but it’s all bursting out of him at the same time. He and Anja have had the same talks many times before. She’s better off than him, though, with a near 4.0 GPA and STEM courses under her belt, and even when she struggles with the men in her department, he knows she’s going to be just fine. He’s just as happy for her as he is jealous.

Instead, he takes out his phone and sends a greeting to Dan. Anja is just about the most comforting person he knows, perhaps only behind his mum, but he has a feeling Dan is more similar to him in some ways.

_ now that im forcing u to open up to me more, can I ask what u r going to school for? if ur going _

_ lol…law school. the most boring, soulsucking thing ever. but I like analyzing social systems so ykno :p _

Shit. Dan is smart. It shouldn’t surprise him, just the way he spoke showed how bright he was.

_ ur gonna be rich at least _

_ ya i think it’ll be ok, but like everything in my life, i have no idea if i’m doing the right thing or not _

_ well im almost graduated and i still don’t know _

_ sorry that’s not very comforting _

_ nah its ok, nice 2 know other ppl are a mess 2 _

_ is ur life rlly that much of a mess? _ Phil texts.

He looks over to Anja, driving and bobbing her head. She’s being nice, not pushy, but she must know that Phil has gotten himself into something. She always knows.

“So. Dan’s opening up more, I think,” he says, hesitantly. She cocks her head to the side, lifting her eyebrows as though she’s trying to look surprised.

“Yeah? That’s this mysterious boys’ name?”

“Yeah. He lied about his age because he fancies me.”

He watches as her mouth drops open, slightly shocked and slightly amused.

“Oh no. Oh, what have you done, Phil,” she says, laughing at him.

“He’s still 18, he’s legal! Just a little white lie.”

“Okay, well how many white lies have there been.”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s a bit young for you, Phil.”

“I didn’t say I was going to date him, I actually told him I only saw him as a friend.” He frowns down at his phone.

_ idk. sexual crisis, crazy parents, always depressed, horrid existentialist fears that keep me up at night, no motivation and 2 many dreams, i told u i’m annoying as hell _

It’s a lot to unravel. He puts his phone down to think.

“Is that true?” She asks.

“I don’t know. I guess, yeah, I fancy him a little, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. He’s literally a thing of my nightmares and whatever I’ve been predicting is not good and now I don’t know how much I can trust him. But he’s cute.”

“‘But he’s cute’ Phil! Don’t be an idiot, your hormones are going crazy. Also, can I see a picture?”

“You don’t even like men,” he says, pulling up Dailybooth on his 3G anyway, trying to navigate the tiny mobile page. 

“I have eyeballs.”

Phil stares at the road nervously, holding up his phone by the steering wheel. Thankfully they’re on a long, straight road through the grassy hills, not even halfway to Rawtenstall.

“Oh shit, he’s pretty. Also young.” She comments, eyes back on the road now.

“Yeah.”

_ everyone has fears and some mess in their lives, I still wanna know about it, it makes u more real  _

He sends the text out just as Anja begins talking again.

“I mean, you seem very iffy about him, Phil. If you’re getting all these warning signs, it might be a good idea to back off. Like, he’s still a teenager. He must live far away if he’s just an online friend. And the predictions are weird. Phil, if anything, your subconscious is telling you to stay away, but ask Kath about it and stuff.”

“Why haven’t I ever dreamt about lottery tickets? I’m sick of these dramatic nightmares about cute boys.”

“Did you listen to my lecture, Phil?”

“Yeah. I’m going to talk to Mum. I just really get along with him, you know, like there’s not many people that I can be myself with right away. If we can be friends, I’ll be happy.”

“That’s fair, you’re only ever romantic in those scary dreams, right? Maybe it’s only a warning against dating him. Oh God, do you have internalized homophobia?” She asks.

“I think I’ve worked past most of that. A boyfriend sounds nice.”

“Okay, but keep thinking about things like that, don’t get hurt.”

“I promise I will, Anja.”

He pulls out his phone again to see a reply.

_ ya i do wanna open up 2 u more, somehow i feel like u will understand me & i wanna be rlly close friends  _

_ i wish we could hang out in real life n play video games n chat _

_ ya me 2, where do u live again? _

_ wokingham _

_ i’m from rawtenstall, how far is that _

_ i just googled it n 360 km... _

_ that’s so far  _

_ 5 hours on a train i could handle that lol _

_ just to play videogames with me? haha _

_ ya, worth it _

Phil smiles down at his phone, subtly bopping his head along to The Killers. Maybe it is okay to be a mess for once. A stupid, reckless mess.


	6. five

The strange dreams continue and it leaves him feeling wary every day.

A week ago, they’d been in a Starbucks when the coffee beans had set on fire, filling the entire café with smoke. He’d lost Dan in the smog, running around until other arms had dragged him out, voices telling him he was better off leaving him so he’d make it out alive.

The other dream they’d gone in a store that was so white and bright and empty with large black screens surrounding them, the only contrast to the heavenly light. But Phil had logged on, pulling up Photobooth to see the spot next to him empty. He spun around but Dan was gone, only the light surrounded him. The laptop began ding-ing, over and over again, growing louder, and he had a horrible feeling in his gut.

He isn’t going to tell Dan about the dreams, though, not when they are so explicitly romantic and verging on violent. It makes him seem crazy. He just might be crazy, he thinks.

They’re talking a lot more. He’s happy to be at home, truly happy, but now he’s missing his university friends. He’s somehow missing having rambunctious people all around him after months of wanting to escape to his peaceful family home. No matter where he goes, it seems like he’s missing something in his life. Dan is a comforting constant but he's horrendously far too.

Phil was almost expecting his house to be like it is during holidays, some sort of celebration for his return. Game nights, big dinners, messy baking and adventures, but he was stupid for assuming life would stop for everyone else as well right now. His brother is long gone and moved out while his parents are at work all day, then Mum has church bake sales, choir practice, and poinsettia tea’s while his dad is off to his painting club and volunteering at a shelter. He wonders when his parents became so much apart of the community. They seem to have plans to travel every weekend too, off to the Isle of Man without him to see his grandparents.

Even Anja has started a full-time internship and only has limited time to hang out with him.

He spends copious amounts of time in his tiny room just editing away and watching films on his computer. Then, Dan will come home from work at ASDA and call him with an anecdote about stupid customers and then they’ll somehow end up talking for hours more. He doesn’t know how it goes by so fast, and how every time they hang up he still has so much to say.

Dan has been talking to his girlfriend lots too, and he recounts all of his thoughts to Phil. It feels special to hear such personal thoughts, so different to previous boundaries that he listens to every word with wonder. It surprises him how mature Dan is sometimes, having long conversations about distance, school, growing up, getting experience, and commitment. His girlfriend, similarly, has been worried about going off to business school and meeting new people, and just how different things seem after high school.

This day, Dan comes more solemn and rambly than most days, with harsh red puffiness around his eyes. It’s late, he had a closing shift but still didn’t call Phil for hours after.

“I talked to Erin. It’s official,” he says.

“Oh shit. Are you okay?” Phil asks, staring at him intently.

“Yeah. We both thought it was for the best. Like, I knew this was what I wanted but I didn’t expect it to be so hard, I feel like we’re both so grown up now. We’ve been together for so long, like, she was my number one, and now all of a sudden we’re not dating and she’s going to be miles away. It’s weird. Like, we just sat in my car and cried after.”

“I’m so sorry, Dan. Are you going to stay friends?”

“Yeah, I hope so, I think we’ll be talking a lot over the next little while we’re still sad. I also told her about you.”

Phil’s eyes widen at that. He feels instantly guilty.

“Don’t look so scared,” Dan laughs softly. “I told her I thought I had feelings for a man. I didn’t think I’d be brave enough, but I really wanted to tell her all of a sudden, like we’ve talked about so much and now it’s suddenly easier to open up. And she was so understanding, she even feels similar with girls, like, confused I guess.”

Phil tilts his head, smiling at Dan.

“Second person you’ve told already? I’m proud,” he says, eliciting a beaming smile from Dan.

“Yeah, it’s a really great feeling. It’s like I’m starting a new era in my life where I can really start over and be myself. I’ll be gone from this damn house soon enough; my dad can stop screaming at me every day. I can meet new people, like you. I can go to school, at least begin to work towards something. I think I’ll finally feel like I have a purpose in life like I belong somewhere.”

“I think it’ll be really great for you, Dan. Like, it might not happen right away, but you grow so much from being thrown into messy situations. At least, that’s what I got out of my university experience, I can’t even describe how shy I was before.”

“Is university really what they say it is? Like parties and clubs and all that.”

“Yeah, like, it’s there. I almost wish I did more clubs, but it’s true that it’s so easy to meet people. Just prop open your door, offer some Haribo, and you’ll make friends in no time.”

“Did you, like…experiment a lot in university? Is that a thing?”

Phil smiles endearingly at the youthful curiousness seeping through Dan's mature exterior.

“Yeah, I suppose. Like, I definitely figured out my sexuality during it, got more comfortable. Went to gay bars with Anja and everything, it’s very freeing.”

“So you’ve…been with a man and everything?”

Phil nods. He has, first nervous in a dark room, wrapped up in a sheet with vodka on his breath, trying to hide his shaky hands. Maybe he wasn’t ready, but it was better after that. He almost wants Dan to have something better than that, with someone who means something, what Phil imagined as a young teenager. Maybe that's too restrictive, maybe Dan doesn't want that. It’s probably his own issues that make him feel strange over Dan sleeping with another man.

“I gave this guy a blowjob when I was younger. We were, like, fifteen and stole a bunch of our parent’s alcohol. My friend's brother might have booted for us, I don’t know. We were just messing around and he crawled into bed next to me and it just…happened. I might have kissed him first, honestly. I think he remembers it but he never brought it up so neither did I.” Phil frowns at the grimace on Dan’s face.

“Everyone experiments, Dan, it’s not a bad thing.”

“I don’t know if he was black-out or not, though. That’s creepy. I was so scared of it getting out at school, or something, people were already being fucking cunts to me. Have I told you I went to an all-boys school? It’s fucking horrible. More B.O., sports teams and chavs than hell itself.”

Phil thinks for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows in worry. Anja would have something to say, she’d be like a sociologist talking about shame and double standards, something Phil can’t quite wrap his head around right now.

“It’s not creepy to be gay. I get the thing at school, but it’ll be better at university, everyone is more open and anonymous since it’s so big. It just might take a while to not be ashamed.”

“I just think maybe I could experiment and whatever, but I should stick to dating girls. Someone I could be open about.”

Phil thinks hard again, knowing his forehead is probably protruding with wrinkles from the worry on his face. It doesn’t sit with him well.

“You don’t choose who you fall in love with. I like girls, too, you know. But it’s about the person, not the gender or anything else. If you fall for a man, I hope you let yourself be happy with it.”

Dan stares at him for a moment. Usually, it’s easy to stare back at Dan with the protection of the screen but now he feels vulnerable under Dan’s eyes.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I couldn’t be truly happy because it’s still a part of myself that I hate. But I understand what you’re saying, and I agree. It’s just scary. I go back and forth, thinking I could date a man and then being super scared of even the thought of it. But it’s nice to have you to talk with,” Dan says, flashing a sad smile. It looks bittersweet with his eyes still so red, still fresh from crying. Dan must have called Phil immediately when he got home, Phil realizes.

“I’m glad you’re opening up, I want to hear about all these parts of you. I feel like we’re both growing up and going through big changes. And I know you’re going to meet some amazing people,” Phil says. He feels his smile falter for a second. He likes having Dan to talk to every day, a big part of him doesn’t want to share it with anyone. Part of him wants to take Dan up on his offer before he moves on and starts to fancy any of the new friends he's going to make.

But his dreams. His superstitions are coming out and he still needs to talk to his mum.

“Right now I just want to meet you for real,” Dan says.

“Yeah, it would be nice.”

“I’m serious. I was looking at train fares and they’re not that expensive. 30 pounds to go and less than 20 pounds to return.” Phil stares at him for a moment, trying to catch wind of whether or not it’s a joke.

“I don’t want to make you spend money for me.”

“I don’t work my ass off at fucking ASDA for nothing, and I want to see you.”

Phil lets his mouth stretch into a smile.

“I want you to come, yeah,” Phil says, slowly growing excited.

“I can book off a few days for the end of the month. Say the word and I’ll come to you.”

Phil feels a burst of excitement in his chest and he sits up on his knees, too restless to lounge. He peers across the room at his Buffy themed calendar he hung up. He looks through the days.

“My parents are gone on the 19th until the Thursday I think. Up to see my grandparents, I’m home alone.” Phil says, quickly remembering.

“You want me over when you’re home alone, huh?” Dan raises his eyebrows, a smile on his lips.

“Not like—I just don’t want to have to explain it to them! Internet stranger danger and all, nothing like that!” Phil says, his voice going high pitched. It is crossing his mind now, though.

“Okay, okay. I’d love to, I’ll ask my manager tomorrow then order it while it’s still cheap.”

They smile at each other. Phil can’t believe it’s actually happening. Somehow he made a best friend in only a few months. He can admit his feelings at this point, too, but the excitement over connecting on a deeper level is enough to let him be free of heartache.

He has something to look forward to now, too. Something other than the last bits of his essay on this video he edited, something other than his dad nagging him about applying to jobs early. He keeps talking about him moving out already, how he’s too old to be living at home still and Martyn was gone at 20. He can stop thinking about all his friends spreading out across the UK, going back to their hometowns and starting new lives while he appears to stagnate.

Because here is Dan. They keep talking, the conversation more muddled and confusing today about breakups and sex and expectations. Dan is mature, awkward, but mature, maybe even more so after a long-term relationship as opposed to Phil with a handful of non-commital hookups and flings under his belt. Phil can sense the shame when Dan still talks about men, the uncertainty and the fear of being out of line. But he’s listening to Phil, really thinking about it all.

Phil doesn’t even notice the time flying by until Dan points it out.

“It’s almost three now, that’s gotta be some kind of record,” Dan says, voice chirpy.

“Shit, no it’s not.” Phil groans. “I should really sleep soon.”

He frowns at the thought.

“What is it? Sad to be saying bye to me?” Dan winks at him. Phil stares for a moment. Dan seems to always be saying things that leave him a bit speechless with his heart in his throat. He laughs quickly, nodding.

“I’ve also been having pretty bad nightmares,” he admits.

“Really, like about what?”

“A bunch of stuff, it just sucks.”

“Want to stay on Skype?” Dan offers, his voice so kind that Phil has to smile back.

“No, we really need to sleep.”

“Then sleep, we’ll just stay on Skype. I’ll ward off all the murderers or whatever you dream about.” Dan blinks up at him, dark eyelashes visible through the shitty webcam. Phil pauses, mulling the suggestion over in his head.

“Well, alright, I suppose that would be nice,” Phil says.

He watches as Dan runs off, mumbling about oral hygiene, then comes back to shuffle around with his laptop and cords.

“I’m just going to get out of these clothes,” Dan says, and pulls off his t-shirt and then his jeans, lifting up his torso in frame. Phil looks away from the screen after a couple of moments, grateful when Dan is under the covers with the laptop pulled up to his face again.

Phil has half a thought to grab real pyjamas but he doesn’t want to move or look strange. He clambers under his own blanket, kicking off his jeans and pulling off his shirt while keeping the blanket as high as he can.

Dan isn’t as modest, half of his chest is visible, surprisingly tan and hairless. Phil wonders if it’s natural.

“If I see you thrashing and crying I’ll scream to wake you up,” Dan says, smiling amusedly.

“That’s very kind of you.”

“I wish I was there so you don’t have to be scared,” Dan mutters, laying down completely now, face close to the webcam.

Phil freezes for a few moments, his gut tightening up. He lets himself smile, big and bright at Dan.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Dan beams at him, and Phil feels his cheeks burn up. Too far.

“This house really is scary, though. You’ll see it when you’re here,” Phil says.

“As long as I’m with you, I’ll be okay.”

“I want to hug you,” Phil says before he can think better of it.

“You’re a cuddler aren’t you? That’s what your dream was about so long ago. Well, I know what I’d be doing if I was there.”

It takes Phil a moment to remember what Dan is talking about, but of course, the dream that started it all.

“I wish.”

“I’m going to hug my bear and pretend.”

Phil grabs his pillow in his arms similarly, hugging it to show Dan. He can’t remember ever being so cheesy to another person, or really feeling like this at all.

“Goodnight, Phil, I hope you have nice dreams.”

He doesn't really want to stop talking but he can't let his sleeping schedule get any worse. He turns off his lamp and watches the screen for a moment before turning on his other side. It’s kind of weird, he hadn’t thought about how Dan could just watch him sleep. What does he even do in his sleep? He feels vulnerable but protected nonetheless. Maybe if Dan is there behind him, he can’t die in his dreams.

Dan’s breathing is slow and steady, the slightest bit of rustling coming through the speakers. Phil doesn’t open his eyes to look, he lets the heaviness take over and sink his whole body into his bed, pushing his blankets down a bit as his back begins to sweat under the duvet.

Slowly, he drifts off, Dan’s presence disappearing from his mind.

But they’re together again. White walls surrounding them, bits of colour standing out among the shelves but nothing he can focus on much. They’re in the lounge, though, he just knows, sprawled across the couch.

He feels like things are okay, too. Dan is smiling, big and bright.

“Are you ready?” Dan asks.

“For what?”

Dan looks amusedly puzzled at him, as though it’s silly that Phil doesn’t know.

“Of course, we have to take care of this one, first.” Dan nods down to Phil’s lap.

There’s a baby. Cradled in Phil’s arms, just above his crossed legs. In a baby blue onesie with pale skin and bright blue eyes—his eyes? A tiny thumb is in its pink mouth, a shockingly vulnerable sight.-

Something trembles and for a moment Phil thinks it’s him, but no, the house is shaking. He looks up to see a lack of panic in Dan’s eyes, just a solemn, understanding expression. He shuffles closer to Phil, wrapping his arms over Phil’s arms. He looks older, Phil realizes.

The shaking grows stronger, dust falling from the white ceiling, and Dan leans in closer, protectively.

“We’ll stay here together, don’t worry,” Dan says, and they’re both covering the baby, hunched over and in each other’s face.

The couch is shaking beneath them, the floor must be even worse, while he hears things fall and crash around him, nearly drowning out the sprinkle of drywall falling from the ceiling. As it grows more violent, he knows in one more moment, it will crash upon them.

He wakes with a physical lurch, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before he knows it’s real. He lays there for a few moments, waiting for the franticness of his heart to settle. He finally looks to his side to see a dim image of Dan, asleep and facing the webcam with his mouth falling open.

He looks cute and even younger than usual. Phil watches for a moment, a knot in his chest, the anxious feeling lingering, and he quickly hits the end button on the call.

He lets himself stay in bed this time, wallowing in the sheets with anxiety burning his chest. It’s left a sour taste in his mouth. Things always seem to go wrong with Dan. Is their world literally going to cave in?

At least Dan had been with him in the final moments of that one.

Sleep still hangs over his head but it isn’t going to come. He’s constantly having horrible nights of sleep, staying up too late to avoid the dreams, then waking up in the early mornings out of fright, feeling like a sad zombie for the rest of the day. He checks his phone, it’s only 9:00. And it’s Saturday, meaning his mum is off work.

He soon gets the motivation and hops out of bed, running down the stairs then slowing down as he gets into the kitchen so he doesn’t appear so strange.

“Oh! Morning, sleepy child, I’m surprised you’re up before the suns about to go down again. I couldn't believe my ears when I heard something running around, I thought it must be an escaped donkey, surely not you,” she says. Her mousy hair is propped up in little blue rollers that match her bright blue bathrobe.

“Morning, Mum.”

He grabs his cereal and milk, comforted by the smell of instant coffee filling the kitchen. He hurries at dumping the sugar in so he can sit with her before she leaves to get ready.

He makes it, sitting down and bouncing his knees restlessly. She glances up at him, a little puzzled, but he knows it’s not abnormal for him to be in his own little world around her. She knows he'll eventually say what's on his mind.

“So, Mum…” he starts, sipping at his coffee.

“Yes, child?”

“Was Grandma ever wrong about her predictions?” he asks.

Kathryn seems to ponder this for a few moments, staring up at the wall across from her, letting out a puff of air.

“Her ideas were flawed, yes. No one can be right all the time, there’d be a huge imbalance in the world.”

“So there were things she said would happen and they never did?”

“Nothing's set in stone,” she says.

“So you can change the future?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s changing the future, that would be to say there’s a set path for us all. Your actions determine your future.”

“But then how can I have all these dreams if there isn’t a preset future?” He bites his lip. He doesn’t tell his family about all the dreams he has, not in detail. It feels like an invasion of privacy, almost. And they got tired of hearing it from his Grandma and he doesn't want to do the same.

“Who you are will determine the actions you will take and create your future. People can always change.”

Phil furrows his eyebrows, thinking it through.

“There was a rule Grandma talked about from her Wicca group. The ladies all made an agreement that if anyone began depending on their practices and spirituality too much, that they’d have to stop and have a talk. You can’t be too far out of reality, normal human instinct is valuable and everyone should make the mistakes that any other person does so they can be just as strong-willed and modest.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What’s bothering you, Dibs?”

“My dreams have been scary lately and I guess they’re going against my intuition so I don’t know what to do,” he says.

“Scary? Can you explain more?”

Phil doesn’t reply, just looks down at the table. It’s too weird to discuss dating to his mum like this.

“Okay, well, you know I want you to be safe. Don’t let anyone hurt you, sometimes indulgence is an instinct that can harm you. You’ll be careful, won’t you, child?”

Phil nods immediately. He’s the last person who wants to be careless and get his heart broken.

“Trust your brain, I trust you.”

He nods solemnly. He almost wants an answer telling him he’s crazy, go ahead and love that boy despite all the warnings. But it’s still the small likelihood it’s not crazy that holds him back. It’s probably the same silly fears that make him shake with terror when he breaks a mirror or why he avoids walking under the ladder when his dad puts Christmas lights up. He grew up hearing Grandma's premonitions and saw them come true with his own eyes, even the bad ones that everyone tried to avoid. Like mum’s layoff, Martyn’s girlfriend cheating, the death of Holly.

Maybe he doesn’t even have clear proof with Dan, but he’s left with terror and paranoia anyway.

“I need to get ready, Carol is coming over soon. Want to talk more about this later?” Kathryn asks.

He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay, Mum. I think you’re right. Anja told me to be careful, too.”

“She’s a smart girl.”

Kathryn stands up but pauses, holding her empty coffee cup.

"Another thing. If you're anything like her, there's no chronology. You could be dreaming of things that will happen tomorrow or things that will happen next year. You could be dreaming of the bad things that happen before the good. Would you avoid something that's going to hurt you 10 years from now?"

"I mean, yeah, if it's going to end badly, what's the point? It's like if you know a relationship will end in a breakup, why try for so long just to be heartbroken later?" He says, knowing it's too close to the truth and his mum is going to know this is all about someone he likes.

She purses her lips, then silently puts her dishes in the sink.

“You have a muddled brain and a wild imagination to start. You know how many times you told us the vampire horses were coming for us as a kid?”

She pats his head as she walks by, pressing down the thick hair that’s heavy and hot on his head.

 


	7. six

He doesn’t stop talking to Dan. Not after Dan went and bought those train tickets, sending a shock of reality through Phil. Not when he’s dying to talk to Dan every second of every day and has no other distractions to help him get over this fondness. Not when Dan’s on the train out to see him right now.

He’s nervous, though, so undeniably nervous. During the day, talking on and off to Dan, he’ll convince himself that he’s being silly and he can at least try to be friends with Dan and see if anything goes wrong. Then the night will come and all the possibilities will rush through his mind, all the proof of psychic powers in his life, every little thing his grandma said, and all the weird experiences that convinced him there is more to the world than what meets the eye. That maybe he knows more than most, can see the things to avoid and needs to protect himself better.

The way he feels with Dan is so opposite to his dreams. They get along better and better every day, talking about fears and philosophy and careers and anything Phil can think of. It’s easy and surprisingly exhilarating. His fears disappear when he’s completely distracted by Dan.

The dreams about Dan have ceased, too, which only makes him feel more daring with his indulgence. It doesn’t feel all that safe when he thinks hard about it, though. A promising dream would have felt better than this radio silence; it feels too ominous to trust.

There isn’t time to panic and run away even if he wants to, Dan will be here soon. His parents are gone and they have a whole three days to be together. He set up a mattress a few feet away from his bed, grabbed some DVDs from Blockbuster, and bought all the ingredients needed for pancakes.

He’s meeting Dan at the train station, just like in that one dream. It feels like a moment of truth now, the chance for everything to go wrong.

He’s already at the station and excited despite himself, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He was here twenty minutes ago, actually, too restless to wait. Some sort of mixture of overwhelming nerves and happiness.

A text lights up on his phone, telling him that Dan’s only a few minutes away. His hands tremble a bit at the thought, adrenaline rushing through his body. How will he ever be able to tell if he has an intuitive bad feeling or if his nerves are just making him second guess everything?

A train pulls up and screeches to a stop. Phil backs up a few steps and whips his head back and forth watching random people trail out, men in business suits, teenagers talking loudly, some scruffy looking adults who emit strange smells. He doesn’t see Dan.

Is this the bad news? Dan never shows up and declares it’s all a prank a few minutes later?

He checks his phone again. He has to be on the next train.

He waits a few more minutes, time stretching out before him. Another train pulls up soon. If Dan isn’t on this one then he’ll let himself panic and call him.

Ever so slowly, the train comes to a halt and the doors open with an obnoxious hydraulic sound. He finds him right away, standing up at the doors before they’re even open, so tall he has to duck down as he steps onto the platform with a bag slung over his hunched shoulders. They’re making eye contact now and Phil tries to relax his face so he can smile like a normal person.

“Hey, Phil,” Dan says, sauntering over. He looks nervous but he’s also smiling as though he can’t help it.

“Hey! A train just came five minutes ago and when I saw you didn’t get off I was starting to think you hadn’t come at all and just made this whole joke to get my hopes up. Or maybe you died in the last few minutes by an assassin on the train who got the wrong emo kid. Or maybe you catfished me for real and had your face photoshopped in all our Skype calls so you were really one of the ugly businessmen that got off of the train. But you know...you’re here now.” Phil says, a bit too aware that he’s talking fast and off course. Dan just stares at him, amusement etched on his face.

Phil waits. It must be time for Dan to think of something to say now, he thinks. He stands there waiting, arms falling loose like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself.

“So...want coffee?” Phil asks.

“Not even going to hug me first? It’s the least you can do for your friend that just travelled such a long way,” Dan says, face slightly pink. 

Phil feels a sudden wave of guilt. Why is he so strange? He lurches forward and wraps his arms around Dan’s shoulders, hearing a noise of surprise. Dan is quick to hug him back, quick and tight around Phil’s torso, tugging down the strap of his bag. 

Dan holds on tight and slowly relaxes into Phil. The sharp jut of his chin is on his shoulder and his weight is pushing Phil backwards. Dan breathes in heavily and Phil has a moment of realization of who just travelled all this way to see him.

 He looks up and is instantly unnerved to see them so close to the edge of the platform. He has no trust for the dangers around him today.

“Mm. Do you wear Lynx?” Dan asks, pulling back but running his hands up the two flaps of Phil’s open jacket, thumbs skimming against his torso. Phil backs up away from the edge of the platform and Dan follows, staying close. Phil gulps, hoping his face isn’t heating up. With his luck, his inability to process situations will save him from becoming overwhelmed.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, it isn’t so bad on you since you’re not an asshole like a lot of the guys that wear that stuff. So, coffee?”

Phil isn’t sure if that’s a compliment or not. He doesn’t reply and just starts walking in step with Dan away from the tracks.

“How on earth are you taller than me?” Phil asks, peering up at Dan’s fringe. His hair might be closing the gap but he has to look a couple inches up now that Dan is standing straight. He straightens his back roughly, feeling a slight pop between his shoulder blades.

“Turns out we’re both inhumanly tall, wow,” Dan says, his eyes trailing up and down Phil. Dan slows down a bit as they get to the wall and Phil realizes he can’t just follow Dan aimlessly, this is his city. He takes Dan’s sleeve between his fingers and pulls them to the side, walking with intent to leave the building.

“So there is a Costa just down the street and I think a Caffè Nero a bit further,” Phil says as they walk down the steps.

“What about that Starbucks right there?” Dan nods his head to the large shop on the corner of the street. “You love sweets, I would have thought you’d always choose some sugary frappuccino.”

“Uh, yeah. Well, I have normal coffee a lot but Starbucks is good. If you really want to we can go, special occasion to splurge on overpriced latte’s.” Phil explains. He thinks of the nightmare he had, too blurry in his mind to visualize by now, but a scary prospect anyway.

“Oh, you’re just frugal, why am I not surprised. Capitalism enslaves us all. Costa would be good,” Dan says.

He’s feeling strange, staring at Dan’s soft skin with barely any stubble poking through, at his dark eyelashes and bright eyes. Brighter than he’d ever been able to see in a webcam, at least, they’re practically glowing now. It’s weird to see Dan in full definition.

“It’s weird to see you in real life,” Phil says out loud.

“Yeah? What’s different?” Dan asks, raising his eyebrows.

Well, he isn’t going to tell Dan that he’s even more attractive in real life. He just shrugs his shoulders, walking down the street and into the Costa.

“What do you want? I’ll grab our drinks.” Phil says, pulling out his wallet. Dan smiles at him.

“Black coffee. I’ll go find us a seat.”

He orders their drinks and stands to wait and watch the barista move around, pulling levers and swirling latte foam. It doesn’t look like it’s even possible for a coffee shop barista to start a fire, he’s probably being stupid.

He thinks about what Anja always said about dreams being metaphors. When he’s finally given the warm drinks, he takes his time picking up napkins and sugar packets, breathing slowly.

Phil walks back to Dan soon enough. He’s at a cute little booth in the corner that appears to have the opposing chairs stolen by a group of teenagers huddled a few feet away. Phil goes and sits on the little sofa with Dan, seeing his hands shake as he passes it over. Dan starts telling him stories now, all the things he can recall thinking about while he looked out the train window, passing through farmland and grassy hills. Phil has a feeling that Dan is trying to let Phil relax while he rambles on, voice soft and thoughts peaceful. It does help. 

"Sometimes I think I put too many expectations on myself, which probably sounds stupid because I don't even do anything. But that makes it worse. I sit at home doing shit-all but play Rockband and Skype you and I only ever leave the house for my _literal_ dead-end job, but every second of every day I still have these expectations in my head. I should start studying early for my classes, read some books on philosophy, at least watch a damn documentary on something useful. If I really applied myself I could get a really good job, y'know?"

Dan pauses to sip at his coffee, turning to lean against the wall and knock his leg against Phil's. He puts a gentle hand on Phil's thigh and says ‘sorry’ but doesn't move his leg.

"I'm young now and this is my break between college and university and maybe it's not the fun vacation that all the kids want, but that party shit is what I expect to have in university, I want this break for me. I think I would have made my time more worth it if I let myself lay in bed guilt free to think about the world. Like, while I sat on the train it was nice because there was nothing else to do but sit and listen to music and it was so peaceful to be given that break, guilt-free and lovely. Otherwise, I just do the same things and feel unnecessarily depressed. I think I'm allowed this break to be alone and do what I want. Play video games, talk to you and make videos, even if it doesn't help me. Being happy is worth the time, right?"

Phil nods passionately, not sure how to articulate how much he probably relates to Dan's feelings.

"I'm rambling so much, but I'm really glad I came here. It's something for me. I think the meaning of life is different for everyone and I just want to find happiness in whatever I do, and I want to be unapologetic about it."

"You deserve it, Dan," Phil says softly. Dan looks at him with a tender gaze. Pretty doe eyes, Phil thinks.

"Later we can waste our time playing Mario Bros then, huh? For my sake?"

"Yes, absolutely," Phil says.

Once their drinks are emptied, Phil decides to be the tour guide he promised he would be. They walk out to the shops along the road, rows of stores that are half unrecognizable since his time here as a teenager.

Nonetheless, they find a store that sells games and posters so they walk through, pointing out nostalgic artifacts. They walk aimlessly through retail stores, making fun of more clothes than not. Phil drags Dan away from the Apple Store after an idea to post some pictures. He doesn’t want to be online right now, even the thought makes him feel a bit sick. He wants some privacy, he wants the good of the day to continue when so many places of his nightmares are around him.

They turn onto a new street looking for the comic book shop that Phil grew up going to. Dan pokes his arm while he’s squinting at the shop names further down.

“Hey, want to go on that?” Dan asks. Phil looks up to see the Manchester Eye.

He’s only been on it a handful of times; when he begged his parents during trips into town as a kid, and once or twice as a teenager with friends. It’s boring, really, but there was some sort of excitement about finding the general direction of his home and other landmarks, especially when he felt like a giant in comparison from such a height.

He grimaces at the thought of going on it now and sees Dan looking worriedly at him.

Phil scratches affectionately at Dan’s upper arm, hoping it makes things feel more playful again. He’s not sure where the instinct comes from, or why he doesn’t think twice before reaching out, but it feels nice to touch Dan in some way. Maybe it’s the thought of blunt nails scratching at his skin, giving him shivers and goosebumps and wanting to do the same to Dan. It’s hard to stop now, especially as Dan leans into him.

“Maybe another time?” Phil asks, knuckles still resting noncommittally on Dan’s bicep.

“You seem nervous, Phil. What’s up?” Dan asks.

Phil looks back and forth between Dan and the wheel, moving his hands behind his back in case they begin shaking again.

“I...I get scared of it collapsing, honestly,” Phil says. It’s the truth in some ways, though it’s a newfound paranoia. Dan gives him an understanding gaze and Phil relaxes a bit.

“That’s fine, we don’t need to go on it. But Phil, you seem really nervous today in general. It’s just me, hey?” Dan still looks worried. Phil can’t help but feel a bit condescended. Dan doesn’t really understand. 

“I’m fine,” he says.

“I mean, you’re just...shaky and nervous, is something up?” 

Dan pulls Phil to the side of the path to avoid other pedestrians. Now that they’re stopped, Phil notices the chill in the air, wind seeping up his jacket.

“Really, I’m fine,” he says again, shrugging.

“I mean, I’m nervous, too, don’t get me wrong. I was so damn nervous coming. And I’d probably be dead inside if you were all cool and collected, I really thought I was going to be the one that’s a hot mess—”

“What, I’m a hot mess?” Phil says, frowning.

“No, I didn’t mean…. I just want you to be comfortable with me. I’m not judging and maybe this is just how you are and believe me, it doesn’t change anything. Just, if you are feeling anxious, please tell me,” Dan looks like he’s pleading now, fidgeting with the strings on his jacket.

“Shit, no, I’m sorry for being defensive. I guess I am...nervous. This isn’t a great place to talk, though,” Phil says, looking over at the continuous stream of people near the wheel. He wonders if he really has the guts to tell the truth, anyway.

“Yeah, I agree, I suppose we could go home to yours soon. I kind of wanted to go on the wheel to just be alone with you for a bit, so I’m definitely good to go home.” Dan says, staring at Phil with sincerity in his eyes.

Phil feels a bit frustrated. It would have been the perfect thing to do, he doesn’t even care about the implications, he wants to sit and talk with Dan so desperately.

“Yeah, let’s go catch our bus.”

They saunter off and Phil bumps his shoulder into Dan’s as some sort of message of comfort. He doesn’t even mind the walking, Dan fills the space with the things going on in his brain and it helps Phil to be distracted again. He so desperately wants to be calm and happy today, to not waste the little time they have.

They sit at the back of the empty bus when it finally comes and Dan puts his head on Phil’s shoulder, quietly asking if it’s okay. Phil couldn’t have said no. His affection feels like it’s getting stronger, like a fully formed ache in his chest. 

It’s a short uphill walk to his house that still makes his breath come short. They trudge up to his front door and Dan comments on the size of his house in wonderment.

“Welcome to my crib,” Phil says, doing two upside down peace signs at Dan, earning a dramatic eye roll back.

“Yeah, yeah, give me the tour now. I want to see all the embarrassing baby photos of you in the bath.”

“No way am I getting the albums out, you’ll have to kill me first.”

“I think it’s worth it.”

They kick off their shoes and Phil pulls Dan down to the basement first for the tour, where the long sofas and their biggest TV exist with all of his movies still in boxes next to the shelf. Dan walks slowly along the stairs, looking over each photograph carefully until Phil pulls him through the kitchen and living room and up the stairs.

“I do see the resemblance to the hotel from The Shining,” Dan mutters, staring around until his attention becomes more centred on Phil’s room. He looks back and forth from the little cot to Phil’s bed, to all the letters and pictures on his wardrobe and all the posters still on the ceiling.

“The AmazingPhil bed and floor, wow. It’s even smaller than it had seemed over Skype, and this carpet is gaudy." 

“Don’t criticize my decor, I learned a lot from renovation shows. Many would kill to be in this bed with me,” Phil jokes, waiting for a comeback, but Dan seems distracted. He sits on the bed and looks around with curiosity. 

Phil watches Dan for a minute. He gently sits and puts his arms around Dan's shoulders before he can second guess his affections. Dan twists in his grip, turning to hug Phil back. It seems horrendously vulnerable now that they’re alone.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Phil mutters, feeling Dan nod against him.

“What are you so nervous about then, Phil?” He asks, pulling back.

Phil stares at Dan. He’s okay right now, truly, but it’s not going to last. His superstitions and worries will follow him.

“Do you believe in fate?” Phil asks.

“No,” Dan scoffs. “Doesn’t mean that coincidences can’t be crazy still, which is really even more amazing.”

 “What do you think about psychics then?”

“Fake. I mean, you know how it works, right? They just say a bunch of general things that anyone can relate to so people believe them.”

“I don’t know about that, my grandma's a psychic. I’ve seen her be right about her predictions many times. Who knows, I could be, too,” Phil says, adding an edge of humour to his voice. He tries to keep a smile on his face while Dan stares at him. “I’ve predicted a lot of weird things.”

“Is this a pick-up line?”

“No.”

“Well, any future predictions you want to tell me about?” Dan asks sarcastically.

Phil stares at the wall in front of him. His mind feels too fuzzy to deliberate, but he hears words slip out of his mouth.

“I keep having nightmares about you.”

Dan looks offended for a split second before plastering an amused look on his face.

“Am I a monster?” 

“No, like, you die in my dreams a lot. And so do I. I feel like it’s a sign and it scares me.” 

“Phil, you can’t be serious, they’re just dreams.” Dan cocks his head, voice a bit condescending and still amused, as if he can’t tell if Phil is joking.

Phil stares down at his hands. Maybe he has no proof but things from his dreams feel so close to him today, as if it really would come true at the first slip in judgement. 

“I know you might not believe me, but I have all these dreams that we’re together, like _together_ , and it just always goes wrong and it makes me so nervous about—”

Dan’s hand grabs under his chin, turning his face and shutting him up with a delicate grasp. 

“You’re just superstitious, and also an idiot,” Dan says, peering into his eyes like he’s trying to make him believe it.

“You don’t understand,” Phil whispers, staring back at Dan desperately.

“Don’t give up on me before anything has even happened.”

Dan is close to him now, raising his eyebrows in a strange expression that Phil can’t place—amusement, fear, confusion? Phil stares back, furrowing his eyebrows but not moving away.

Phil knows it’s going to come ages before it happens when Dan sways into him closer and closer and stares down at his face. Their noses bump once and Dan finally presses his lips to Phil’s, warm and soft, and hesitantly pulls back in only a few short moments. His fingertips stroke against the sensitive part on Phil's cheekbone. Phil knows he couldn’t have pushed him away if he wanted to, and he doesn’t want to.

He feels it in his gut, like something twisting around. Dan’s chest heaves afterwards as he breathes in sharply, staring down at Phil’s lips.

Phil stares at Dan for a few long moments, trying not to look completely dumbstruck but feeling his mouth hang slack anyway.

“I said I’d do that, just once. Now, if you want to be just friends tell me now and I’ll leave you be, but God, if you just reject me for silly superstition I will be really mad,” Dan says.

“It’s not a silly superstition,” Phil mutters, so quietly he isn’t sure if Dan even hears. Dan raises his eyebrows at him.

“How about this. We go slow, as slow as you want, we see if God strikes us down or whatever but if not, you date me,” Dan says, as if he's striking a deal.

Phil bites his lip to stop from answering right away. It's something that crossed his mind many times. Despite that, it might only make things hurt more in the end. He chews on his lip, staring down at Dan’s hands, how they fiddle and pick at his nails. He’s suddenly surprised at the exertion of confidence while the nervous energy still radiates off of Dan’s every move. He must be brave.

He thinks about the kiss, feeling the reality crash through him as intense as though it was happening all over again. Like a gnawing in his gut, no—more like a flip of his stomach, fast and exciting, unexplainably pleasurable. He can’t remember ever feeling something similar, not his first real kiss or when he’d lost his virginity, not the first big crush he’d had, that pretty girl he made friends with in high school gym class.

His brain feels a bit full now like too many ideas and questions are on the brink of overflowing, impossible to focus on.

“You know, I think you’re the strangest person I’ve ever met,” Dan says, cocking his head and observing Phil’s face. It doesn't sound judgemental, it sounds endearing.

Phil follows his instincts and leans in to kiss Dan, chasing that feeling again, making his stomach flip over.

 

-

 

Dan is looking frustrated and confused with stuttered sentences and a red face, which might be because of Phil’s weight pressing down on his chest.

The other reason is their argument over Phil being psychic, after Phil’s repeated assurance, pinky sworn, lest his mum be struck dead assurance, that he’s being serious. Dan’s brain is clearly running at 50 miles an hour, talking about intuition, coincidence, superstition and pure dementia. At Dan’s every break to breathe, Phil begins another story of his dreams that surpassed coincidence—of which there must be hundreds coming back to his mind. Something about Dan being close is making him want to share all that he possibly can in their time together, make up for all the missed hours that they could be learning each other inside and out.

“I think you’re a bloody liar, that’s what I think you are!” Dan says pointedly, a chuckle vibrating his voice slightly. The awkward laughter never ceases with him and Phil finds himself inappropriately amused, even while Dan’s eccentricism and volume grow with his frustrations.

“I’m not lying, I swear it!”

Dan is squished next to the wall where Phil has left him no space. Looking at his single before, Phil could have sworn they’d never fit, but now the whole of his bed seems empty behind him. 

They kissed for a long while, some timeframe Phil could never accurately guess, rolling back on the bed, scratching at each other's hair and roaming hands around shoulders and chests and backs. He made a conscious decision to keep their hips a good ruler length apart and Dan didn’t push it. Through the newness and awkward tension, it would have been overwhelming to cross any lines so fast. Kissing already seems like too much, biting and sucking on each other's lips, breathing heavily. He never could have guessed how nice it feels to kiss Dan’s full lips, how it sends a strange jolt through his gut when he so much as thinks of it.

Phil must have been crowding Dan because as soon as he clued back into reality, he had Dan up against the wall. Phil moved even closer to hug him, more than half of his body overlapping Dan’s, and stayed there. He doesn't want to move and Dan doesn’t ask him to, even if his breath seems a little shallow from the weight on his chest. That’s when Phil first said “I really am psychic, you know,” and proceeded the long-winded debate.

“I really don’t believe you. I don’t know how to explain it, but I refuse to believe it.” Dan says.

Phil leans back and reaches under his bed, skimming his hand back and forth until he finds a cardboard package. He pulls up the tarot cards he shoved under his bed after the video. The case is faded and scratched, probably about to rip any day now. Dan rolls his eyes at the sight of it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dan says. Phil laughs, laying down next to him and pulling the cards out. 

“Is this not proof? I’m the real deal. Just kidding, I never know how to read these. The first card I pull represents you, the second represents me.” Phil shuffles them badly then squeezes his eyes shut, pulling out two cards. He opens his eyes and Dan is looking at him with an exasperated expression. 

“You are...the hermit. Well, he does look like you. And I’m the chariot. I don’t like horses, so that’s not great.”

“God, you’re stupid. Be serious here,” Dan says. Phil throws the cards behind him and smiles mischievously at Dan.

“You have to admit that there’s more than what meets the eye, Dan. You said you believe in aliens, you got to believe in this. Soon you’ll see that the things I say come true.” Phil says. He can’t keep the smile off his face and he can’t help but feel like it’s only because Dan is here. Just as he’s thinking it, he sees Dan’s smile falter ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to believe in it. If it’s true, then we might not have the control to change what you predict,” Dan says. He stares expectantly in Phil’s eyes like he’s waiting for consolation.

Phil frowns too. It’s easy to laugh about it with Dan now. He doesn’t want to go back to being riddled with anxiety, he knows it’s inevitable. For now, he wants to convince himself that this is meant to be.

“Well, when I dreamt that my brother was trying to steal my DS and I hid it, he never ended up stealing it,” Phil says, hoping to keep the mood light.

“We can at least try to defy God’s plan for us before he strikes us down,” Dan says. 

“Yeah. We’ll see what happens,” Phil hopes he sounded reassuring, but even as he says it, he finds himself becoming scared again. His heart is picking up speed and he rolls off Dan so there’s no chance he’ll pick up on it.

“We should eat soon,” Dan says, a little awkwardly now that he’s alone leaning up against Phil’s wall, bed sheets all messed up beneath him. Phil’s eyes widen.

“Oh my God, I’m the worst host ever, I can’t believe I haven’t fed you all day, oh jeez, what do you want? We can get anything you want, and I’m buying!” Phil pushes himself up on his hip, eyebrows wrinkled in worry.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Let’s just order pizza.” Dan says, grabbing Phil’s collar and pulling him back down on the bed. Phil flops down easily but frowns.

In another world, this could have been the perfect night, he thinks, while pulling out his phone and finding the saved contact for Dominos. He could have made up the perfect day for Dan, free of anxiety, for a trip around town and a nice dinner and drinks somewhere. He could have spoiled Dan, the least he could do to pay him back for spending all that money on a train ticket.

“What are you pouting about?” Dan asks.

“I’m not pouting,” Phil says. Dan pinches Phil’s lip between his fingers until his face relaxes.

“I hope you know I’m having a great time with you. Stop stressing so much,” Dan says.

“I know, but you came all the way out here and I don’t have anything fun for us to do.”

“Do you know me at all? I just want to chill.”

“But if I hadn’t rejected you a few weeks ago I could have planned a real date for us today. I’d take you to the best fancy-ass hotel restaurant I could find.” Phil says, knowing it would have been a great idea, judging by the full smile that stretches out on Dan’s face.

“You’re not so frugal then, are you, Lester. As much as I’d love to be spoiled, I wouldn’t really have dated you a few weeks ago when I confessed, or even when I broke up with Erin.” Phil looks at Dan, puzzled.

“What do you mean? You basically asked me out.”

“No I didn’t, did you ever hear the words ‘wanna go out’? I just said I liked you, there’s a huge difference.”

“Uhh, in my experience people want to date the people they like.”

“Theoretically, yes.”

“But..?”

Dan cocks his head into the bed sheets, flashing a rather sad smile. Phil could have never guessed how Dan’s eyes would sparkle in real life, so bright he can barely keep eye contact.

“It’s scary. Like, because you’re a man. I wasn’t ready to jump into something like that when I was just discovering who I was. Or letting myself admit it, at the very least.”

“Oh.”

“It was like you weren’t a real person for a while there, you were like an idea. You were exactly what I needed at the time, someone to talk to and maybe fawn over a bit with no real commitment. You don’t even know how many times I told myself I’d stick to dating women, at least I figured out I’m queer, you know? But I kept thinking about how you said I can’t help who I fall for, and that’s true. I like you more now, and I really don’t want to rush into things, but I suppose I’m just now getting to the stage where I can fully commit to trying us out. Trying to be the real me.”

“I didn’t realize, Dan,” Phil says.

“I’m sure when I was holding back some things about myself you felt a bit distant, but I’ve felt the same with you. I feel like you’re finally telling me what’s been holding you back and letting me in, and you might be fucking crazy with all this dream shit, but I feel closer to you than I ever have. You let me in and I’ll let you in, we just got to be more open.”

“Yeah. I’ve been a bit of a hypocrite, wanting to know all about you while hiding all my worries. But I think I’m ready to try, too.”

“Really?” Dan smiles.

“I don’t want to be so scared all the time. I’m an adult now, like a real one, and I think I gotta take more risks,” Phil says. He knows the uncertainty is showing through, but at least it’s honest.

“Now stop starving me or I’m telling everyone on Twitter that you’ve kidnapped me.” Dan beckons to Phil’s phone.

Phil quickly fumbles with his fingers to open it up and call the pizza place, ordering an obscene amount of food. He cringes at the thought of his bank account when they tell him the total. He needs to apply to jobs, or maybe just buckle down on making YouTube videos.

As soon as he sets the phone down, he shoves his arms around Dan, rolling nearly on top of him again.

“You’re going to smother me to death while I’m here, aren’t you,” Dan says, straining. Phil nods against him.

“I’m a bit affectionate, I guess.”

“I never would have guessed,” Dan says, so Phil flashes a smile. “Put that tongue back in your mouth, you spoon.”

Phil moves his head and latches his teeth onto Dan's earlobe, evoking a shriek that his neighbours must hear. He moves his mouth towards Dan's neck but he scrunches up his shoulder muttering 'no, fuck you, stop, not my neck' so Phil bites down on his shoulder.

He pulls back and sees goosebumps raised along Dan's arm.

"You're going to kill me," he says. Phil smirks at him, leaning in to kiss him again, scratching at the back of Dan's neck every chance he gets.


	8. seven

Pizza comes quickly and it feels like the necessary time to break them apart before going any further. The two of them migrate to the couches downstairs, carrying big blankets with them. They prop up pizza boxes with paper towel rolls.

Dan chooses Wall-e and Phil watches the little robot roll around through hills of garbage but feels more touched by the things Dan is saying. Usually, he’d want to kill any person talking through a movie, but now there’s nothing he’d rather do than listen to Dan talk about consumerism and the environment, pulling out random facts he’d read up on landfills in the UK. He talks about technology to such a deeply introspective point that Phil barely cares to hear the few lines of dialogue. Dan is smart, so goddamn smart, and it mixes perfectly with his compassion. Maybe he will be a good lawyer, Phil thinks. If it makes Dan happy.

Dan grows quiet soon enough, slouched back on the couch. Greasy fingers are taken care of with wads of paper towel now thrown into the empty, stained cardboard boxes that will probably be left on the coffee table until he cleans for his parents. He doesn’t have the energy to get up into Dan’s space right now, too full and groggy to contort his body against someone else. He lets his hand intentionally fall between them instead, his head leaning ever so slightly to Dan, and soon feels Dan intertwine their fingers. He holds onto it tightly.

The film is nearing the end and he needs to clench his throat and breathe shallowly through his nose to contain some embarrassing cry noise from escaping. It fails soon enough and a sob hiccup rips out, a strange guttural noise that makes Dan's head shoot to the side. He stares at Phil with glassy eyes and within moments, let's out a much softer sob, followed by tears spilling over his skin. It’s a strangely endearing sight to see as he begins laughing at the same moment.

Phil laughs too and tries not to care about the tears spilling over his cheeks and trickling down his neck. It looks so funny, tears and red eyes paired up, and he can’t believe how cheesy they are.

“We’re manly men, aren’t we, Phil?” Dan asks.

“Oh yeah,” Phil says, making his voice so deep that it cracks.

Dan sinks down and curls up beside him, pulling one of the throw pillows under his head. Straight, choppy hair fans out next to Phil’s thigh and he wants to run his fingers through it. After a few moments of consideration, he does, fixing it back into place.

The movie nears the end, and he doesn’t try to hold back the tears falling, though he still tries to control the messy noises threatening to leave his throat. He could easily sob right now, deep, wet sobs that rip out of his chest. It doesn’t feel like it’s just the admittedly heartbreaking Disney movie. It’s all the anxiety lingering, the thoughts in his head like a swarm of flies trying to escape a glass jar, the strong ache in his chest from holding it in. It feels like it’s all at the surface now, washing over him, so much more than the heart-wrenching animation. It’s a good excuse for the ugly release of feelings he’s having. He feels like maybe in a few days he can give himself more time to cry alone but it never works out like that, it either comes and doesn’t stop or it scrunches up into a ball of anxiety that he can’t let go. It’s cathartic right now and he’s grateful for it, even if he can feel all his regret and fear alongside the fluttering love he has in his chest. If it’s love he feels. Probably, Dan is a best friend now, someone special with more feelings to unravel in due time.

Phil looks down to see Dan’s hands loosely clutching the pillow, just as the credits are rolling with pretty music, bringing a burst of nostalgia even though he’s never heard the song before. It takes him a minute to notice the shadow of dark eyelashes on Dan’s cheek and his slow-moving shoulders, no reaction to the end, either. He’s sleeping.

He shuffles to the edge of the couch so he can look down at Dan’s face. He has a slight pout on his face. He looks so young, and it’s still a surprise to Phil, that someone so wise and thoughtful could be four years his junior. But the signs are there, beyond the smooth skin, in the times of unwavering idealism and inexperience, even if Dan would deny such a thing.

The last thing he wants to do is hurt this boy, it’s all he really knows for sure. Other struggles are impending for Dan and he doesn’t want to add to the heartbreak of becoming an adult and moving out. He can’t make up his mind about whether the selfless thing to do is stay or leave and avoid their fate. He probably won’t know until the fatal mistake is made. What would hurt Dan less? How does he know if he’s being daft and giving into selfish temptations at the expense of this man's heart, just because Phil doesn’t want to lose him?

Dan can’t sleep here like this, knees curled up and plastered with skinny jeans in a cold blanket. Phil wipes at his face then kneels down to gently nudge him awake. Dan’s eyes pop open immediately.

“Bedtime?” Phil asks. Dan yawns, loud and big, like a bear.

They trudge upstairs and brush their teeth side by side, sneaking glances in the mirror. Phil takes out his contacts and Dan cringes at him the whole time but looks rather endeared at the replacement of square glasses. Phil leaves while Dan changes in the bathroom and finds his own cozy pyjamas. He then stands back and stares at the bedding situation. At first, he was going to put Dan on the little cot but now it seems stupid, even just as best friends, to do such a thing. He watches Dan look a little confused as he walks in behind him, edging towards the cot slowly and holding the bag up to his chest.

“Why don’t we try to sleep in my bed? If it’s too small, or if I push you off, the other bed is a good option,” Phil says.

Dan nods, a smile growing. “If you push me off I’m gonna punch you and you’re going in the other bed.” He throws his shoulder bag on the ground by Phil’s bed, then leans down to pull out his phone charger, yanking it through random articles of clothing.

“You sleep by the wall then, I’m probably going to crowd you.”

Dan rolls his eyes but Phil sees an unmistakable blush spread on his cheeks while Dan delicately climbs into bed, so careful it’s as if he tries to maintain the position of the creased covers.

Phil turns off the light and feels along the walls to his bed, his vision slowly coming back to see the yellow tinted glare on the bed. A golden ray from the streetlight beyond his small window. He climbs into bed just as delicately as Dan had, laying on his back a few inches away from Dan’s shoulders.

Earlier, they’d been all over each other and it was easy to smother Dan with affection, the way he wanted to. Now that they’re apart, with no adrenaline to push him, the move to the middle feels a lot more awkward.

“Want to sleep on my shoulder for a bit?” Phil asks after a few moments building up the courage. He stretches his arm out and Dan moves into his space, head resting just above his shoulder with a gentle hand on his torso and their bodies lined up. He stays silent for a few minutes, urging his heart to slow.

“Phil?” Dan says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens, will you stay my friend?”

He holds back an embarrassing noise of fondness.

“Yeah, Dan. I promise we’ll stay friends. Forever, hopefully.”

“I think you might be my best friend,” Dan whispers like he’s telling a dark secret.

“You’re one of mine. Definitely.”

 

-

 

He wakes up confused about the warm body next to him but a waft of memories quickly come back. Brown tufts of hair are slightly curled now, popping out of the rising and falling blankets. They aren’t cuddling anymore, but Phil definitely hasn’t left Dan any room next to the wall.

Dan seems to be emitting heat from his skin everywhere they’re lined up and Phil aches to get closer, trap in the heat and escape the cold air behind him.

He closes his eyes and shuffles closer still, letting his sleepiness wrap around him and pull him in and out of sleep so incoherent dreams continue in the awareness of his warm sheets. His head is sinking into the pillow and making everything feel heavy, and he feels endlessly grateful, for once, that he can sleep.

He’s not sure how long passes, whether he’s dreamed for hours more or only a few minutes before he’s coming into full consciousness. It’s a bit of an overwhelming delirium like he’s losing control and letting his mind sweep him up in the waves.

He grabs his glasses and phone, surprised to see that it’s still morning. Anja left a text.

_How was your day with Dan? Didn’t wanna bother you but I still expected some deets after you met up. What kept you guys so busy ;) ? Anyways, wanna have lunch with me and Saania, we both got our shifts covered so we have the day free?_

He slithers his arms under Dan’s back before he can think twice about letting him get his sleep. Dan let’s out a groan that makes Phil feel shyer than he just did a minute ago, so he moves back a few inches.

Dan turns his body, slow and groggy, but finally flashes a dazzling smile, skin wrinkling at his barely open eyes. He rubs them with the backs of his hands for a moment and then seems to look at Phil more clearly. 

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.” Phil touches his finger to the tip of Dan’s nose.

“Did you have any special dreams?” Dan asks, lifting an eyebrow.

Phil thinks for a moment about what he can recall.

“Uh, yeah. Not a long, significant one, more like the usual little details I get. Nothing about you tonight.” He’s both horrendously relieved and disappointed that he hadn’t gotten a Dan prediction. It would be great if whatever omnipotent being that decided his fate gave him an update. 

“What’s that like?” 

“Kind of weird and subtle, I probably forget a lot of it but I try my best to remember some stuff. It comes in flashes like I’m seeing little parts of the world rather than the whole story. Like I looked out a window and saw grey clouds and a bit of rain, that’ll happen. I saw a pan with pancakes in it, but I was planning that anyway. I saw Anja’s face for a second. If I put the pieces together, I can see how my day will turn out.”

“Well, what if it’s like, you dream of pancakes so you want pancakes kind of thing?”

“Well still, I always get the weather right, I have no control over that. And I woke up to Anja wanting to hang out so that explains that dream.” Phil waves his phone in the air.

Dan frowns, looking more silly than intimidating. It’s as if he’s trying to glare but can’t help but look gentle still. Especially curled up in blue blankets with messy hair and sleepy eyes.

“So anyway, wanna have lunch with Anja and her girlfriend? Well, I think I know your answer since I saw her in my dreams.”

Dan frowns more, a bit silly now. “Yeah, fine. I really want to meet her.”

“Pancakes, first?”

“You’re just trying to make your predictions come true!”

“Nuh uh, I want pancakes!”

“Fine! But I’m still protesting and I think you’re crazy.”

Phil drags Dan downstairs after a few minutes of lounging lazily. Usually, he’s so horrendously groggy in the morning that he can’t stand to talk to anyone before coffee but he’s in a shockingly good mood today. He’s so alert he could go without coffee, even, but he starts making it anyways. Who knows what would happen after years of drinking coffee every morning.

They try flipping the first pancake but a few crumbly pieces fall to the floor instead, so the next couple they try to carefully pry over with a flipper and fork.

They sit next to each other at the dinner table and Phil sees Dan peeking down at his lips. He smirks at him until Dan lurches forward to wipe the side of Phil’s mouth.

“Golden syrup. It was annoying me.” Dan laughs, watching Phil sheepishly wipe around his own mouth. Dan leans in and gives him a quick peck. It shouldn’t feel so surprising. He stands up to do the dishes before his red cheeks can shine through too much. 

Later on, they find their way back to bed, laying close and facing each other while Dan tells Phil about some of the people in his school, both the assholes and his best friends, and how he always felt a bit lonely anyway. Phil realizes he has more than just curiosity hanging onto Dan’s every word.

He has an urge to be as emotionally close as possible, to share all of his memories. He wants to hear all the thoughts that Dan has, even if it gets boring, like what he does during the day when he’s not talking to Phil and what he thinks of the world. There’s so much to learn still and he has a lovely feeling that they’ll understand each other amazingly once they grow even closer. He wants to trust his intuition, it’s what makes his dreams, is it not. 

He wants Dan to know him too, he makes an effort to open up about his own friends a bit. The old ones he misses and the newer ones he also misses now.

As the afternoon approaches, and Anja texts him back, Phil almost wants to cancel. The bed is where he wants to be, but he’s excited when they’re walking down the block despite it all.

Anja hugs Phil as soon as he opens the door, then looks over and gives Dan a much calmer hug, chirping a “hello!” It’s too friendly, Anja is always nervous meeting new people, but at this moment it makes Phil endeared, especially to see Dan’s high strung nervousness in response.

Phil looks behind her to see the girl who must be Saania, an almost shockingly pretty girl, even shorter than Anja with big brown eyes, long, bushy hair and dark skin. Red lipstick matches the logo on her Iron Maiden sleeveless tee over ripped black jeans and she holds herself confidently, smiling up at him. He side-steps around Anja and gives her a warm hug, muttering 'so nice to meet you!', and watches Dan do the same after, looking like an awkward giant wrapped gently around her. 

He’s heard enough stories to know Dan doesn’t like meeting strangers all that much, always holding a fear of saying the wrong thing or holding himself wrong so he stands close to Dan and puts a steadying hand on his back, half listening to Anja complimenting Dan’s hair. She looks back and forth from Dan and Phil with a funny smile on her face. 

“We were gonna make fajitas, that good?” Anja asks, putting an arm around Saania possessively, clinging onto her with a beaming smile. Dan and him nod enthusiastically.

“Both fricking giants with emo hair and black skinny jeans, what is this? Going to a cult later?” Anja jokes.

“Do you think I can join, too?” Saania kicks up her leg on the bench inside the door to show off her jeans. She has a fringe too, just brushing her eyelashes. Anja looks the absolute opposite, with a bright vest on and light hair. “But really, I could have mistaken you guys for brothers because of all the similarities.”

Dan raises his eyebrows and looks at Phil with a funny gaze. Phil barely holds back a laugh.

As they move into the kitchen, he feels a bit self-conscious as Dan questions them about their jobs, Anja analyzing statistics for the NHS on an internship a few days a week while Saania does an education practicum. He’s reminded again about how desperately he needs a job.

They grill up chicken and beef in a large pan, throwing in peppers and onions after a few minutes and laying out fresh lettuce, shredded cheese, sour cream and salsa on the table. Phil runs around grabbing everything, knowing the cupboards like it’s his own house. He glances over at Anja and Dan interacting, so intrigued to see them together, he almost wants to fall into the background and just observe. Two of his favourite people are bouncing back and forth about school and life and he just wanted to soak it in.

He looks out the window to see small patterings of rain. It had been grey before, not particularly dark, but cloudy enough to shadow their neighbourhood in faded colours that had stopped seeming so gloomy to him after a while. The sun still shone bright enough so the rain just seemed calming, tinkling against the glass. The kind of rain he’d almost love to go run around in.

Phil turns back to see Dan staring out the window with a rather distant look on his face. He gives Phil a quick glance before turning his attention back to Anja, who’s ranting about the scam of unpaid internships.

Phil knows what Dan is going to say as the conversation dies down. “Hey Anja, I have a question about Phil,” he says.

Attention focuses on Dan and Anja’s face lights up mischievously. Saania looks over curiously.

“I’m all ears, I know all of his darkest secrets.”

“I’m not sure if Phil is pranking me or if he might be truly crazy so I need to get the opinion from a sensible person on him being psychic.” He does air quotations as he says psychic. His tone is light and joking but Phil knows the question is genuine.

“Oh shit, I want to hear more about this, actually. Anja mentioned it and I don’t know how much I believe, either.” Saania says skeptically, putting the fajita shells in the microwave.

Anja smiles warmly at Phil, almost proud, before she speaks. “Everyone thought he was crazy at school, too. I kind of did but after reading Harry Potter I really wanted to believe in magic. He’s definitely proven that it’s not a prank, as weird as it is sometimes. Perhaps we’re just both crazy, though.” Anja shrugs. 

“Do you know, like, what you’re going to do in life? Who you’ll end up with? How you’ll die?” Saania asks, looking at Phil. She’s excitable and friendly, bouncing around on the balls of her feet.

“I can’t control what I see, really. I can never understand tarot cards or tea leaves that much, either. I just get random dreams and try to analyze them. I don’t get those very often, either. Well, I try not to remember my dreams if they don’t really pop out.” Phil says.

“I stopped trying to analyze them a long time ago and I almost think Phil should stop, too,” Anja says. She isn’t taking her eyes off Phil now even though she’s speaking about him in the third person.

“Why?” Phil asks. She never said this to him, even if he expected it.

“The predictions fucked me up, I always wanted to know what was going to happen. I depended on them too much. I changed what I did in life based on your dreams. That’s not healthy for anyone.”

Phil puts his head down, shuffling around the tins of sour cream and salsa, mulling her words over. She had always been overly fascinated, it was true. It was most of what she talked about until she got her heart broken, and then it just stopped. She never asked about more than the weather, and Phil rarely brought it up, scared of another bad reaction.

“I’ll never forget how much I fell for Kate after your dream. I told you about her Saania. I thought the dream meant she was my soulmate or something. It was the first time it felt like I’d find a love I would like. I almost doubt I would have fallen for her at all if it weren’t for your dream about us. Maybe I didn’t analyze the dream enough, or maybe something in the world changed my fate, but it ended horribly and I hated myself for following your dream so aimlessly, forever. I don’t even know if I ever told you this, Phil, that I even tried to kiss her in the locker room. I was so ashamed after, it was so stupid.”

Dan listens so intensely that his mouth is open ever so slightly. Saania moves closer and rests her chin on Anja’s shoulder.

Phil is surprised, too. It isn’t something Anja likes talking about, and she can’t do so without crying, not in high school at least. He still remembers the rumours and the few bullies. How Anja skipped graduation because of her anger towards the school, ranting about how she couldn’t take a girl or wear a suit if she wanted to anyway.

Phil clenches his teeth together so no emotions will slip through. Anja is calm and everyone is having fun so he’ll hold in his pride for her until another moment they’re alone. He stares at the two girls clinging to each other, so relieved that more emotions fill his chest. She seems so peaceful about it all now.

“Don’t let it control your life, you’re probably giving into a horrible fate if you do that. You’ll go crazy and never take risks. I do think you need to take more risks, Phil.” She smiles at him before grabbing the plate of fajitas to pass out. 

“Yeah, I agree,” Dan says.

Phil still doesn’t say anything as they grab their food and walk to the living room. He sits close to Dan, thighs pressed together and arms bumping almost uncomfortably, but he wants to be crammed into the couch with him, the knowledge of Dan leaving in a day is already like a looming monster creeping up behind him. Can’t waste this time.

He can’t remember the last risk he took right now. He hasn’t applied to any jobs, hasn’t really confessed his feelings to Dan, hasn’t told his family about YouTube or anything. He doesn’t go wholeheartedly into anything, he sticks his feet in to weigh out the cons, only unless it comes to him in a dream. His mind is always telling him not to do something.

Maybe he could make his own destiny. Maybe he should at least try, while he’s young and free. Maybe he shouldn’t be so scared of heartbreak or rejection, he might very well be headed to the future his grandma had. Horrendously superstitious and nervous, now that he thinks of it.

He’s distracted by the light chatter going on around him and the absolutely decadent fajita in his hands. He wants to just sit and enjoy this, but he promises himself to think about it all later.

Anja keeps looking over at him and he feels like they’re having some sort of silent conversation. She must be noticing how deep in thought he is. She probably doesn’t realize the weight of what she said to him. Or maybe she does.

He hooks his ankle under Dan’s and smiles at him, seeing a dimple pop out at him in response.

 

-

 

The four of them play poker and blackjack with jelly beans until late afternoon, and once again, Phil doesn’t want it to end. He wants everything in this day to stretch out to infinity. 

He spent a few weeks feeling like he’d lost dozens of university friends that he’ll probably never talk to again but now, with just a few lovely people, he’s feeling more like he belongs than ever before.

He knows he can see Anja and Saania more so he makes the excuse to say goodbye soon. 'I’m getting hungry, aren’t you Dan?' He hugs them goodbye and Anja leans up on her toes and whispers in his ear.

“I really like him. You’d better be good to him, he’s young. And he really likes you. Never took his eyes off of you.”

He doesn’t reply, too scared of looking shady. Instead, he smiles at her and watches Saania and Anja lean against each other as they leave. They walk home, feet pattering in shallow pools of water, and Phil lets their shoulders and hands bump into each other. 

The aura is delightfully happy, giddy even, and he has the hunch that neither really know what to say to each other. Maybe it’s the surprise of getting along so well that makes it seem like everything is coming together.

“Hey, Dan?” Phil asks just as an idea pops into his head.

“Yeah?” Dan isn’t smiling but he may as well be with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes.

“Remember when we talked about filming a video?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Would you wanna? I mean, we can do anything, but it could be fun. Just a casual Q&A”

Dan nods. “Yeah, it does sound fun.”

Phil tweets out for questions and links his Formspring then sits back to wait.

They lounge on his bed and Phil wonders if it’s acceptable for them to stay there until Dan has to leave. Close enough to nudge arms and hook legs together and pass over some of the awkwardness of physical boundaries. His bedroom seems to help surpass some of the fear, at the very least, dark and private and separate from reality enough.

When he checks his notifications and scrolls, he thinks it might work for the video. At least half of the questions must be funny enough. And Dan can scroll back to the messages that have backed up. Some even mention Dan, but Phil doesn’t really care if he sees. He hands the laptop over to Dan and rips a sheet of paper out of one of his notebooks.

“Man, I don’t know what I’d do if I was getting this many replies,” Dan says.

Phil doesn’t really know how to deal with it, either. What did those people see? He sees some kid from a small English town who might a bit too strange for most. He supposes he’s moderately attractive, his hair makes up for his beaked nose, crooked teeth, and pasty skin. He can be funny, too, puns rolling off his tongue. Maybe he just needs to believe in himself more, or realize that others see something different. He almost wants to ask Dan. _Who really am I ._  

Dan scrawls sentence after sentence on the little paper. Phil tries to sneak a peek at the questions but it’s too illegible to read upside down.

Dan’s hands don’t shake like Phil’s do, but the nerves are emitting off of him in different ways. A bouncing knee, a strange rash on his neck and cheek and teeth nibbling on already cracked lips. Phil doesn’t know how to tell Dan that he’s a natural for the camera because it’s more of a hunch than anything.

He sets everything up anyway, half expecting Dan to back out. He's ready to let him, too.

Dan is quiet before he turns on the camera. He sits a bit hunched, reading over the sheet.

“You’re still good to do this?” Phil asks.

Dan looks up at him. “You’ll delete it if I hate it?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah okay, why the fuck not.”

Dan is quieter than usual but he chirps up more after a few minutes, a sneaking smile on his face and sarcastic comments.

Phil can’t really tell how the video will turn out but it all seems so random he might as well throw it all together haphazardly. Dan’s questions are funny, completely random and strange in a way that floods his chest with amusement. He tries to stay stoic for comedic effect but he hopes that Dan can see how much fun he’s having. He hopes he’s right in seeing that Dan is having fun, holding in laughter.

He’s giddy, this kind of unwavering excitement that’s lifting him up today and not threatening to crash anytime soon. It makes him feel confident and affectionate, so much so that as soon as the stupid idea comes into his head, he executes it, tackling Dan to the floor just as they’re wrapping up.

He turns the camera off after though, quickly scrambling up on his knees and leaving Dan on the floor to press the little red button, watching the screen go dark. He looks back to see Dan lifting himself up on his elbows, a small smile on his face, and Phil tackles him back down again, eliciting a louder laugh, almost like a shriek. 

Phil puts his head next to Dan on the hard floor, and throws his leg over Dan’s torso, cuddling close for a minute. They listen to each others breathing, staying still for a few long moments.

Phil pushes up on his shoulder a bit. “Hey, Dan?”

“Mm?”

“I don’t think I told you yet, but I have feelings for you, too.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty obvious about that, you spoon,” Dan nudges Phil playfully, rolling his eyes dramatically, but Phil is satisfied to see a deep set blush rise over his cheeks, especially dark in that weird patch on his cheek.

“I thought you should hear it, anyway. And we can try ‘us’ out, maybe we can get by whatever struggles we might have.” Phil tugs at the fabric hanging loose on Dan’s shirt.

“Like a normal relationship?” Dan raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah…. I’ve been a bit scared to jump in headfirst, I guess.”

“It’s not even jumping in headfirst. I’m not ready for that, let’s just see how it goes.”

Phil nods quickly.

“We’ll keep talking it through. No more hiding our fears. And we will go slow. You probably have more relationship experience than me but still, I want you to set a lot of the boundaries. I keep forgetting you’re only eighteen.” He almost expects a dramatic eye roll but Dan smiles.

“And you have to talk to me about your feelings, no more half-assing everything.”

“We sound so healthy,” Phil says.

“Yeah,” Dan snorts, staring up into Phil’s eyes.

“Do you want to make out?”

Dan laughs again, throwing his head back. “Only if you stop pinning me to this nasty floor.”

Phil scrambles up off Dan and the floor, moving under the covers of his bed instead where Dan follows, smiling wide and crinkly. They push up the pillows to lean on and lay facing each other.

Phil sinks a finger into Dan’s cheek, surprisingly soft and baby-faced for how skinny he looks. He runs his finger over the little indent of tight skin. He snakes the hand around Dan and scratched at the nape of his neck, tugging on soft strands of hair that Dan should probably shave soon until Dan shivers slightly. 

“I've decided you are definitely the weirdest person I’ve ever met,” Dan says. “A fucking psychic.”

It might have hit a nerve in a different context but Dan’s voice is so full of endearment that Phil almost feels pride over it. 

He leans in and kisses Dan, surprised by how soft his lips still are when so chapped. He moves his lips slowly, paying attention to every movement, letting it wash over him again. 

Phil is about to protest when Dan pulls back but he just lifts himself on top of Phil, settling down where their hips press square together. He lets his weight fall and his face is so close that their noses nudge.

"This okay? I'm not too fat?" Dan asks.

Phil presses his fingers into Dan's love handles and shakes his head. The heavy weight is comforting.

Dan makes little noises while he kisses Phil and it seems like he doesn’t even notice. Phil tightens his fists over the fabric on Dan’s shirt, lest his hands go wandering too much while Dan squirms.

Dan isn’t making any moves but he isn’t holding back either, gently rutting against Phil every few moments. Phil can’t even tell if it’s on purpose or if he’s just shuffling around until he feels a hardness against his leg. He doesn’t have the self-control to keep from getting hard, either, but it doesn’t feel like a burden to keep going until he fizzles out, just having Dan close is satisfying enough.

They kiss for a long time, enough for Phil to feel like the outside world is gone and the heavy blankets are his world now, the warmth and the specific, comforting smell of Dan. Hearing Dan make little noises, and feeling hands become less restrained and more greedy grabbing at his clothes and hair, makes him feel a sort of happiness to separates him from the worries. It feels like bliss, and they probably won’t even sleep together tonight, this feels like enough.

When breathing becomes a bit too difficult they pull back. Just as Phil’s beginning to feel like this is second nature, like the most natural thing in the world. Their crotches are pressed together, relieving some of the pressure, but they move back soon, relaxing and breathing. 

“You’re, like, really hot,” slips out of Phil’s mouth before he grabs Dan’s lower lip gently between his thumb and forefinger, gliding his skin against it and admiring the new redness. Dan’s lips stretch out momentarily into a gentle smile.

"You're scandalous, AmazingPhil,” Dan says after a moment. His eyes are wandering all over Phil’s face, almost hungrily. Phil shoves at him.

Dan shrugs. “I wish we could stay here for a long time. Just do this.” He moves forward and bumps his nose against Phil’s.

He wraps himself up into Dan’s chest, feeling a radiating warmth in his own chest. The imminent train ride the next afternoon flashes in his mind and he grimaces. He’s scared to miss Dan and scared for any heartbreak and scared that one day this might be gone for good. 

They talk their hearts out, laying in bed without brushing their teeth or anything, with eyes drooping and speech becoming slurred, and he isn’t scared to go to bed. He clings onto Dan as they drift off until it’s too warm, unspokenly deciding to sleep, knowing they can’t keep their eyes open any longer. He doesn’t want to say goodnight, it feels too much like a goodbye and that will happen tomorrow. He isn’t scared to dream, though. His heart is going to be the new sign he follows.


	9. epilogue

The apartment is familiar in the strangest way. It doesn’t quite feel like a recurring dream, nor is it any place he could name, but it feels more familiar than anywhere else. Like a lovely, comforting room thrown out into space where he belongs with bright white walls and splashes of colour he can’t quite focus on that all seem to represent him.

Dan is there in front of him, how had he missed that before? His hair is curling up—does it really get that curly?—and his clothes are dark and cozy, his skin pale, and smile bright. He can’t focus on much more than him now.

He has the feeling that he needs to be doing something, his laptop and scraps of paper are strewn about the coffee table, but he doesn’t know where to start. He lets himself focus back on Dan so he doesn’t fall into the panic of responsibilities.

It’s not so bad, somehow he knows he’s protected within these walls and he knows Dan is a constant here. He scoots into Dan’s space and feels his body warm.

He doesn’t open his eyes when he drifts back into consciousness, he grasps the dream and tries not to lose it. The cold air and reality of life is daunting behind him, but somewhere that warmth has stayed with him. Looking forward, part of his dream has stayed with him, and smiling brown eyes are staring back at him already.

Of course Dan is still here with him, he stayed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
> Those who practice life with religious, spiritual, superstitious or magick beliefs often derive symbolism and meaning from colours, animals dates, archetypes, images, and numbers. For example, despite being thought of as unlucky to some, the number 7 is widely considered the (arguably) most sacred or special number, acknowledged as important in or applying to Christianity, Japanese lucky Gods, Hindu weddings, Bahá’i Faith, astrology, science, and paganism or witchcraft. ([ mysticalnumbers, n.d.](https://mysticalnumbers.com/number-7/))
> 
>  
> 
> _“Sevens, like Threes, deal with magical forces. Sevens deal with esoteric, scholarly aspects of magic. Representative of scholarly activities, mystery, and the focused search for esoteric meanings. Seven deals with the activation of imagination and manifesting results in our lives through the use of conscious thought and awareness. Ruled by Saturn, Seven can represent impractical dreaming, but with a deeper understanding of the aspects of Seven, you can quite deftly utilize its magical vibration to your own benefit.” ([ ladyoftheayyss, 2011](https://witchesofthecraft.com/2011/12/30/the-meaning-of-the-number-7/)) _
> 
>  
> 
> _Seven is often associated with the colour purple, symbolizing spiritual strength, purity, healing and psychic work. ([ high priestess later, n.d.](http://www.pagangate.com/wicca/color-meanings-in-wicca/))_
> 
>  
> 
> _The seventh tarot card is the chariot. “[T]he charioteer holds no reins – just a wand like the Magician’s – symbolising that he controls through the strength of his will and mind._
> 
>  
> 
> _The charioteer stands tall – there’s no sitting down for this guy, as he’s all about taking action and moving forward. Above his head is a canopy of six-pointed stars, suggesting his connection to the celestial world and the Divine will. In front of the vehicle sit a black and a white sphinx, representing duality, positive and negative and, at times, opposing forces. (…) [T]he sphinxes are pulling in opposite directions, but the charioteer uses his willpower and sheer resolve to steer the chariot forward in the direction he wants._
> 
>  
> 
> _Behind the chariot flows a wide river, symbolic of the need to be ‘in flow’ with the rhythm of life while also charging ahead toward your goals and intentions.” ([ Biddy Tarot, n.d.](https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/chariot/))_
> 
>  
> 
> _For some, the chariot symbolizes limitations during a new love, the way limitations can strengthen relationships and be something to cherish rather than run from, to find peace and freedom throughout commitment by communication. ([ Kasamba staff, n.d ](https://www.kasamba.com/tarot-reading/decks/major-arcana/chariot-card/))_  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> thanks for reading! reblog on tumblr [here](http://det395.tumblr.com/post/180156792202/the-chariot) if you'd like


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